Keep Walking
by Dark K. Sly
Summary: It's kind of a really crappy deal, as Derek explains it to them all once things are settling down – you get the bite, you survive the bite, eventually, you'll get a mate.
1. if you're going through hell

**PLEASE READ THE NOTES, IMPORTANT STUFF HERE, OK?**

**I should probably be writing ****_If you're wondering_****, BUT this idea grabbed my ankle, and won't leave me alone, so… new story…? Yay?**

**First of all, let's all pretend Season 2 ends the second Stiles tells Scott he's scratched his Jeep, ok? Everything after that didn't happen here. **

**Also, you know the whole ****_mate_**** thing? Yeah, not quite so great in this.**

**Hope you guys enjoy it!**

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**Keep Walking**

**If you're going through hell**

It's kind of a really crappy deal, as Derek explains it to them all once things are settling down – you get the bite, you survive the bite, eventually, you'll get a mate.

It's one of the very first things he explains to every single one of his wolves, before he even turns them. It's something he explains to Scott when he's heartbroken that Allison has left him: the certainty the _she will come back to him_, because she's his mate – he wouldn't be willing to forgive the girl if she wasn't. She's _it_ for him just as much as he is _it_ for her. That's probably why her own father can't keep them apart – why he doesn't try to.

The part where this turns into a crappy deal is that it doesn't exactly work like a fairy tale: you get a mate, they will love you back, and they won't be able to help it. No, that not it, that's _absolutely_ not it, because then life would be easy and good, and that's not how things work. You get a mate, and you will never, ever, be able to even think of anyone else for you. You'll never _want_ anyone else, even if you _want to want them_, you won't be _able_, to put it crudely, to get it up for anyone else.

And for the mate? Things are just as bad. Because if they think it's bad having a wolf as a _mate_, having a wolf as a _rejected mate_ is a thousand times worse. They will hound them, and hunt them, and beg for them, unless there's something _huge_ between them, but even then the simple thought of their mate with someone else is enough to drive the wolf in them mad – people have died for it. Not the mate, though, never their mate, but people close to them. The longer the wolf is rejected, the more violent and possessive it becomes.

Of course, it's all manageable – to a point. If the wolf is already in control of themselves when they find said mate at last. If the werewolf is a _born_ wolf, who knows how to deal with the _urge_ to claim and mark and have and own and protect.

If the wolf doesn't claim what's his, putting their mark on it.

It's all manageable – if all those requirements or at least most of them are met.

The thing about the mate is something that happens more than it should be common; after all, there are over six billion people on the planet. However, every wolf will find their mate eventually, be them a friend, an enemy, a passing acquaintance, a stranger they see in a coffee shop, someone they see in a line for a roller coaster in Disneyworld.

They will find them, and they'll want them, and that's it.

It's their destiny tied forever, or at least until the wolf dies – and after that, if long enough has passed, maybe through a form of Stockholm Syndrome or perhaps the knowledge that the wolf's love actually is _that deep,_ the other one will find themselves unable to let go as well, for loving their wolf in return.

Sometimes they are even lucky enough, like Erica and Boyd, and their wolves will find their mates in a wolf too. Someone equal in partnership, who won't question the definiteness of the action of _belonging_ to someone.

Most times, though, that doesn't happen.

Most times things are bad, because nobody likes to hear they _belong_ to someone nowadays, not in the way that the wolf will want. People want freedom and liberty to do what they please, even if they're in a relationship, and their wolf will rarely allow that, and the more the mate fights it, the worse it gets.

It's bad. It's crappy. It's a part of who they are, it's something every single turned werewolf hears from their maker – or should hear, at least – before coming to a decision.

Well, when Jackson was turned it didn't work. When he was killed, Derek actually thought that was it, this was the end.

When he came back from the dead through Lydia Martin, turning into a proper wolf, at last, Derek thought she was _it_ for him.

When he lunged at Stiles when the boy passed by the two of them, still embraced, and he let go of Lydia to pull Stiles close and bite his neck, though, that was when it all went to hell.

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**Yeah. Hum. Anyway… I'll post the next one tomorrow?**

**Please, let me know what you think!**

**REVIEW!**


	2. even if you don't want to

**Keep Walking**

**even if you don't want to**

Derek's mate was Kate Argent.

That should be enough to tell anyone how _bad, very, very bad_ this mate business can get.

Of course, she had never let him claim her, put his mark on her – she claimed she needed more time, and Derek, trying to be a considerate werewolf, took her word for it. He was a born wolf, knowing how to control his more primal urges for _years_ even if he was just a teenager at the time, and, well, he doubts her knowing he was her mate would change anything.

Clearly, he never stopped _wanting_ her, and that's what made him sick about himself, more than anything.

She had killed his whole family, and for years, at every full moon since the fire, Laura had to lock him up because he kept on screaming her name.

That's how sick and twisted this mate thing can be.

When he was kidnapped by her, it was all he could do to keep his mind clear enough to recognize her as a threat. When Peter killed her, he did him an enormous favor, because he would never be able to do it – even if he dreamt about it sometimes.

He is never really free from her, even now that she's gone. He still thinks about her, dreams about her, feels her death as if it was his own.

He _suffers_ because she's dead, and he hates himself for it, because he should have been screaming and crying of joy – and yet his wolf hates the fact that his mate is no longer alive.

He knows he's going to be alone forever too. He isn't going to die, because she had never let him claim her, but he can't be tied to anyone else. He's never going to _want_ to be with anyone else, and he knows that physically he could – and yet he doesn't want to.

His mate refused his mark, killed his whole family, tried to kill him and is now dead.

He's taken all he can from this mate thing, and he doesn't want to deal with this anymore.

He regrets more than anything not having told Jackson about this when he tried to change the boy before – when he was sick, and poisoned (by a bullet from _his mate's gun_, might he add) – but it seemed like it wasn't important at the time.

When Stiles screams and Lydia shouts in horror, and Scott tries to shift and is warned away by Jackson, who has his mouth full of Stiles' blood, while crouching protectively over the other teen, he sees how big a mistake that was.

He exchanges a panicked look with Peter and the man looks, for once, just as confused as Derek feels.

This is bad. This is bad, and they all know it.

At least it can't be as bad as it was with Kate, Derek thinks ruefully later that night.

He hopes he's right.

**X**

Stiles is having his heart broken in a way he didn't even think he could. He's never actually believed in his ten-year plan for wooing Lydia into loving him, he's never really believed he could ever, ever have that: her attention, her love, anything from her, even her friendship.

And then she comes over to his game, and she looks for him when they don't let her see Jackson, and she _sees_ him, and he loves it, even if he's scared and afraid of everything that it's going down that night.

Even if it all went to hell, he thinks he still has a fighting chance, maybe, possibly.

But then Lydia and Jackson are hugging, and he's turning into a proper wolf _because she loves him_, and that's how much she loves him: she can _cure_ him.

That… that is true love. That's meaningful and beautiful and it's breaking Stiles' heart because he knows, he _fucking knows_, he'll never, ever have a chance with her.

Never.

She loves that jerk – and by the gods, how much he _hates_ his ridiculous guts, his pretentious smirk and the way he thinks he's perfect when in reality he's just as empty as a doll.

He hates Jackson, and his heart is broken, and he wants to _leave._

So he looks at Scott, and his eyes are _burning_, he can't even see straight right now, and he says he's scratched his Jeep.

And he turns to leave, because he _can't bear it_.

He tries not to _see_ what's going on when he passes by them, and that's why he doesn't see Jackson letting go of his girlfriend, turn around so fast not even Derek or Peter can stop him and pull Stiles against him.

"Wha…" he starts saying, but then his questioning turns into a scream of pain, because Jackson is _ripping his neck with his teeth_, and, sweet baby Jesus, the sheer _agony_ of it.

He barely registers Scott's angry snarls, or Derek's shouting – what he does see is Jackson's mouth full of his blood, and the way he seems to try to be gentle when he lets him slip to the floor by Jackson's feet, his legs too shaky to keep standing.

He sees Jackson crouching over him, as if he's trying to protect Stiles, and that doesn't make any sense _at all_.

After all, _he_ is the one who tried to get intimate with the inside of Stiles' neck.

And then everything becomes even more confusing when Jackson snarls at _Lydia_, perfect, beautiful, amazing Lydia, who tries to approach them, reaching out her hand – she had done so with a Kanima, why not with wolf-Jackson?

Well, it turns out not to be a good idea, because Jackson snarls louder with every step she takes, his face twisted in his wolf form.

"_Mine_" he says, glaring at her, and Stiles doesn't understand – _his_? Yes, she was his, what is he trying to prove here? Kill something insignificant so she'll know he's serious? Tear apart the not-so-rival so she sees how deep is his love?

"Jackson…" she starts, taking another step, and Stiles half sees, half guesses, that Derek pulls her back as Jackson snarls louder.

"_He's mine_" he says again, in a growl, and Stiles is really confused, because that's the wrong personal pronoun.

But then again he might have heard it wrong, because he's pretty sure he's passing out from blood loss.

And then it all goes black.

**X**

When he wakes up, Derek is sitting on a chair by his bed, and Stiles has to look around to try and guess where he is – and he's actually surprised to see it's his own room.

He tries to sit up and his neck twinges.

Right, being mauled by Jackson in the warehouse.

The warehouse where he's just seen Lydia and Jackson become even more epic than Allison and Scott.

This is bad.

"What are you doing here?" he asks Derek, giving up on his sit up plan, and the man stares at him – he looks tired; for once in his life he's not looking angry and broody, just… tired.

Not even when he was dying he looked this… simple.

It's disturbing.

"We need to talk, and Jackson wouldn't allow anyone else near you for now. He's at the house with Peter and Isaac."

Stiles stares at him as if he has a mental problem, because why the hell would Stiles care about where the fuck is Jackson Whittemore? That guy could go and hang himself for all he cared right now. His neck is torn apart because of him, he passed out because of him, he lost the girl he loves because of him.

He really doesn't care at all about Jackson – it would have been much better if they could have killed him as a Kanima and be done with it.

"What do we need to talk about?"

Derek looks as if he's just swallowed a very bitter lemon before getting up and going to his door. He opens it and calls "Lydia" before coming back in and sitting on the chair again.

Lydia comes in and Stiles stares at her, trying to take her in – she's okay. Sure, she looks scared and her eyes are red and still full of tears, but she's okay – she's not hurt, that's what counts.

She looks at him and tries to smile, but can't quite manage. Stiles tries to sit up again and is a bit more successful this time, managing to at least lean on the headboard, and Lydia sits on the bed with him. She looks at his neck and reaches out a hand, but Derek stops her.

"That wouldn't be a good idea" he says, and she drops her hand immediately, looking down.

"What's going on?"

They both look at Derek, but the man doesn't look like he'll start talking any time soon. Stiles looks at Lydia instead, but she just shrugs.

"I don't know either, and they won't tell me anything" she says, and Stiles snorts.

"At least you were conscious for the end of it" he jokes and she smiles a bit at him, "What was it with Jackson biting me, though? Was he trying to defend your honor or something?"

Lydia looks uncertain and shakes her head.

"It didn't look like it. He was crouched over _you,_ as if _I_ was a threat" she says, and Stiles looks at Derek, who is following the conversation but not saying anything.

"What doesn't make any sense, because he had just opened up my neck" he replies. Lydia is about to say something when Derek decides to start speaking.

"He was marking you" he says, looking at Stiles as if he's stupid, "You are his mate. He was marking you" he repeats, as if it would make more sense the second time he says it.

"I… don't follow" Stiles says shaking his head, and flinching at the pain, and Lydia is much the same.

Derek sighs, looking as if the last thing he wants to do on earth is this, but he seems decided to get through it.

"Every wolf has a mate. Sometimes they are human, sometimes they are wolves, and our more savage side seeks that mate, longs for it. When a werewolf is trained, when they have an anchor, they can resist the pull, wait until the mate is ready to be claimed, because once they are, there's no going back, they're tied to that werewolf forever" he stops, and looks at the teens, and Stiles can actually see, for once, some kind of compassion in Derek's eyes, turned on _them_, on him and Lydia, "Jackson was recently turned, he has no control whatsoever, and he might be even more out of control because he's been the Kanima for so long. Stiles is his mate. He was there when he _became_ a werewolf, when he changed for the very first time, with no form of control over himself – nothing to keep his wolf at bay. He just did what his instincts were telling him to do. He marked his mate. You're his."

When he's finished, Lydia actually snorts, and throws her hair over her shoulder, looking more like herself than the scared girl who entered the room a few minutes before.

"There's no way in hell Jackson is falling fore Stiles. No offense but, first, Jackson is straight. He had his crises years ago, and he's not gay. Second, even if he was, do you really think _Stiles_ would be his type?!" she looks at him, "No offense" she says with a smile, and Stiles is about to say _none taken_ when he realizes he can't talk, because apparently, yes, he takes offense at it, and the words actually _hurt him enough_ he can't talk.

Well, that's Lydia Martin's power over him.

"It has nothing to do with sexual orientation or appearance, Lydia. It honestly just happens. I'm not going to feed any of you a line about how this is something good, that it can only lead to happiness, this is not how this works. It happens, you have to deal with it" he says it in a no-nonsense tone of voice, as if it's done, it's over, and hell if it is!, "Jackson will spend a few days with me, he should be fine as soon as he's more in control of his wolf and-" but before he can finish speaking, Lydia is already talking.

"And then he'll come back to his senses and see that _I'm_ his mate" she says firmly, as if saying it like that would make it happen.

Derek's eyes flash red for a second and then he looks down, clearly trying to contain his frustration.

Stiles is way too shocked to be able to say anything.

This is not happening.

It's just… not happening.

"It doesn't work like that. Maybe, _maybe_, if he hadn't marked Stiles, you might have a very small chance, but with that" he points to Stiles' neck, "Stiles is his. That's all there is to it" he finishes, and Lydia gets up in a huff, leaving while muttering _unbelievable_ and _he'll see reason_.

They hear the door being shut downstairs with more force than necessary, and stay in silence for a while longer.

"You know, even if you never actually come forth with information, you never lied to us. Keep things _from_ us, yes, you did, but you've never lied" Stiles starts, looking at Derek, "Are you lying now?"

Derek runs his hands through his hair, shaking his head afterwards.

"No" he says simply and Stiles looks at him, waiting for something more, "Look, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. Jackson would have been able to control it better, but you were there just as he became a wolf, he couldn't control it, he couldn't have stopped marking you if he tried, and he didn't know he had to try" He gets up and goes to the window, "His wolf is too close to the surface, and he has nothing to hold on to. It's not his fault, he saw us all as a threat to you, he did what he thought would protect you – he becomes a werewolf, and the first thing he sees is his mate, surrounded by other wolves, maybe dangerous ones. He bit you to protect you. The only reason I'm here at all is because I'm his Alpha, he recognizes me as _his_ Alpha, and he knows I'm no threat. I'm _pack_, and he trusts me implicitly for it. He just wants you safe" he concludes, and Stiles snorts.

"Yeah, because mauling me is the way to go to keep me safe."

Derek stares at him, looking as if he'll say something, but he doesn't.

He sighs, shaking his head, and vaults through the window, leaving Stiles behind.

The boy falls back on the bed, and decides not to think about any of that shit right now.

For all he knows, Jackson is so bad at being a werewolf that he will realize he bit the wrong person.

**X**

Things are so bad at home Stiles would probably take having to deal with being mauled by Jackson again just to get out. He can't tell his dad why his Jeep is scratched and almost missing a door, and why his neck looks like a wild animal had a close encounter with it. He can't tell him why he doesn't fight when his dad tell him he's grounded, and John looks just a second away of shaking him out of his lying addiction.

Stiles bites his lips and waits it out, because there's nothing he can say or do.

Everything is a mess, and he's pretty decided on ignoring anything that isn't his dad or Scott for a few days. Isaac texts him, telling him he should come by the Hale house, because Jackson needs to see him and he can't leave: he's too wild.

Stiles ignores it, and the texts stop coming when he texts Derek and asks him to leave him _out_ his Derek's pack business. He's a part of Scott's pack, and Derek isn't his Alpha.

There's silence from the Hales after that, for at least a few days. He cooks, he takes care of his neck, he goes crazy with boredom, but he doesn't leave the house.

His dad tells him, after a week, that he isn't grounded anymore, and the only change it has on his behavior is that now Scott comes over a lot.

Maybe if he ignores everything for long enough, it'll all go away.

**X**

Stiles doesn't hear from anyone of the Hale pack for a week and a half. Eleven days when he can recover from his crazy wound, be stared at disappointedly by his dad and hang out with Scott, who's so completely miserable Stiles actually thinks he's the reason his dad let him out of grounding sooner.

It's not fun, but hey, it's better than being mated to crazy Jackson.

Which he's not thinking about right now – not even a bit.

He's good at ignoring these things, and while the problem doesn't come knocking on his door he won't go looking for it.

He's so intent on ignoring it, he doesn't even tell Scott about it. He says Derek came to see him, tell him what the bite was about, and just explains it has something to do with Jackson not having any control.

He doesn't say the words _mate_ or _Jackson_ or _Lydia_, and Scott doesn't catch him on his hiding the truth thing, because Scott trusts him.

He'll only tell Scott if it becomes an issue, and it will only become an issue if it's true, and it'll only become true if he tells anyone.

See? He doesn't tell anyone, therefore, it didn't happen, and he's ignoring it so much it'll go away.

Yeah. He believes that.

On the twelfth Hale-free day, though, things start to get a bit bad.

"Dude, Lydia is moving away" Scott says as soon as he sees him that day, sitting on his bed, and Stiles almost falls off his chair in surprise.

"What did you just say?" he asks, hands tight against each other.

"She's totally leaving. Her mom met my mom at the store, and she was so upset, because Lydia decided to go live with her dad in Portland."

Scott hasn't even stopped talking properly and Stiles is already out the door of his room, keys in his hands, driving to Lydia's as fast as his old jeep can take him, leaving Scott behind.

When he gets there he rings the doorbell and Lydia's mom greets him with a watery smile, leading him to Lydia's room – Lydia's boxed up room.

She looks at him and her eyes fill up with tears – he can't quite tell if they are sad or angry, though.

"You're really leaving" he whispers, closing the door behind him, stopping near it, unable to move, "Why are you leaving?" he asks, staring at her in near despair, and she wipes the tears away, raising her chin.

"I went there every single day, since the moment Derek told us everything. Every day" she starts, her voice bitter, "He says he's grateful, and that I was the best thing that could ever have happened to him, but I'm not _his_. Because you are."

Her eyes are accusing, and Stiles flails a bit, looking desperate.

"I'm not!" he screams, "Jesus Christ, Lydia, I'm crazy about _you_, I always have been! You know that! I was so crushed when you two were hugging, I wanted you to be happy, but I was so miserable, I would never… he HATES me!" he says, finally, and Lydia is looking down, as if she doesn't want him to see her tears.

"It'd be easier if you loved him, or wanted him, you know? Because then I could hate you, and fight back, but you really, really don't, do you? You detest Jackson. You were trying to save him for me" she says, and shakes her head, "Ever since I realized you were better than the idiot I always thought you were, you were kind of my back-up plan. If Jackson ever fell out of love with me, and if I fell out of love with him, you would have been my first choice. And now I lost you both" she says, shaking her head, "You have no _idea_ what it's like. Seeing him, and listening to it… I…" she takes in a shuddering breath and stares at Stiles firmly, "I'm leaving because I can't stay here and _accept_ this. I won't heal as long as I keep around – and honestly, this town is way too crazy for me" she says the last sentence with a hint of bitter laugh in it, "I'm leaving, and you're staying, and you _will_ take care of him. Because I'm asking you to" she orders, and Stiles doesn't answer.

He doesn't even nod, to make her happy or anything, he can't.

This is just so _fucked up_ for the both of them – so what if Jackson has decided Stiles has to be his? Jackson doesn't want _Lydia_ anymore, and she's just said she would go for _Stiles_ if that ever happened, and now she's demanding he take care of Jackson? Of the guy who made his life miserable, who can't think of anyone but himself, who hurt Lydia _badly_ and has a restraining order against Stiles that cost his dad his _job_?

Everyone has to be miserable so that _Jackson_ gets what he wants?

How fucked up is _that_?

If he despised Jackson before, now he truly, _truly_ hates him.

She turns back to packing after that, and Stiles sighs, his eyes full of tears again. He wants to say something meaningful, he wants to tell her she'll be okay.

Hell, if he knew it'd help, he would even say he'll take care of Jackson, but that would be a lie – and a hurtful one, because it'd be rubbing in the fact that she won't have Jackson.

"Do I at least get a kiss goodbye?" he ends up saying, only half joking, and Lydia laughs, but it's bitter and sad and broken.

"I don't need a crazy wolf hunting me down for kissing his mate" she says, and looks at him briefly, "You should leave, Stiles" she commands, and he goes.

Fuck his life.

**X**

He doesn't even know how he gets home, but when he gets there, Scott is gone.

Stiles literally doesn't know what to do with himself, his brain is in overdrive, there are so many things going through it at once he can't actually focus on anything, no matter the fact that he actually didn't skip his medication that day.

How is this his life? How did it come to this, Lydia going away and Scott alone, and his dad hating him, and don't even let him _begin_ with this Jackson situation – he can't deal with that at pains of being traumatized for life.

He looks around his room and despairs a little bit, sitting against his closed door, pulling up his knees and dropping his head on them, breathing in deeply.

"I never took you for someone who hides from trouble, Stiles."

The boy hits his head on the door he looks up so fast, and there's Peter Hale, _in his room_, just a few feet away from the door, looking at him with that creepy, condescending smile of his.

"You obviously don't know me that well" he replies, not getting up, "What the hell are you doing here, anyway?"

"I'm here because there's a teen werewolf angsting in my house, and my nephew is already emo enough without having a companion for his manpain. You need to come and see that boy – preferably take him out of our hands. At this point, you are all he needs" he says pleasantly, sitting on the desk chair and crossing his legs.

Stiles snorts at that.

"Not a chance in hell, buddy. He can crash, burn and die for all I care."

Peter raises an eyebrow at him.

"I thought you were the one who cared about everyone, Stiles. Weren't you willing to risk your life for Lydia, and Scott, even Derek, more than once?"

"I care about the people _I care about_" he hisses, looking at Peter angrily, "I'd do anything for Scott and my dad and Lydia. Hell, I'd probably help you and Derek, even Isaac a lot – but Jackson? I don't care about him. I know you were kind of dead at the time, but when we found out he was the Kanima, I was all for killing him. Scott was the one who wanted to save him, and look where that got _me_" he replies angrily, and Peter is smirking while he talks.

"My, my, aren't you an angry one. I always knew there was a reason I liked you" he uncrosses his legs and leans forward, "But the thing is, Stiles, that the full moon is in four days. That boy is whining and talking about you, yes, but he is _human_. When he turns, and he _will_ turn, nothing in the universe will stop him from turning, he will have a single thought in mind: you. He will come to your house, and he will tear it apart until he finds you. And the more you reject him, the worse it'll get – he'll _kill_ to be near you, he'll find you wherever you are. He will come for you and anything in the way – Scott, you dad, anyone – and he won't see them as a part of your life, _he won't care_. He will kill them to get you." His voice is low at the end, and Stiles can't help the chill of fear running through him.

"Is it that bad?" he stares at Peter intently, because the man may be crazy, and that's why he doesn't sugarcoat things.

"It's worse than that, because you are marked and yet you aren't claimed. Not fully. You reek of… how to put this…" he makes a mock pensive face, "Of _innocence_, and his wolf will want to get rid of that, to make you reek of _him_. Do you see where I'm going?"

Stiles is pale, and his eyes are wide – he is actually properly scared now, because the idea of a half-wolf Jackson grabbing him and… Jesus Christ, NO!

"We let this go on for longer than we should. For better or for worse, that boy is pack, and you are pack through him. You will come to the house today, and tomorrow, and the day after that, and you will spend as long as you can with that boy, so that we won't have a body count when the full moon comes. We can't afford it with the hunters we have breathing down our necks."

"I'm not your pack" Stiles says, his voice cracking, because of all the things Peter has said, this is what he _can_ focus on. The rest he _can't deal with_.

Peter smirks at him, getting up.

"You keep telling yourself that" he goes to the window, turning around at that last moment, "You have one hour to get to our place, or I will personally let Jackson out, and it won't be pretty. Don't be late."

And then he's gone.

Stiles rubs his eyes and runs a hand through his short hair, panicking just a tiny bit.

Maybe he'll go to the Hale house.

Maybe Jackson will take a single look at him and _see_ he's wrong, that Stiles is so not his mate, and then they'll call Lydia back, and Stiles will even be happy for them, he swears he will.

He gets up and grabs his keys, leaving a note for his dad, saying he'll be back soon.

The sooner he gets there, the sooner Jackson will realize his mistake, and Stiles will be free again.

* * *

**I'm already working on the third chapter, but I'll probably update "If you're wondering" first. It will come this week still, though.**

**I hope you liked it.**

**Tell me what you think!**

**REVIEW!**


	3. even if you're afraid

**Keep Walking**

**Even if you're afraid**

That place is just depressing. He can't even look at it without feeling bad, what is it with Derek and that house, anyway? His family _died_ in there, Jesus, why won't he move away or maybe demolish the whole thing and rebuild it? He can't live in that dump. Should he knock on the door, anyway? What for, they can probably hear his heart racing from inside the house, even if he hasn't left his Jeep yet.

His Jeep that it's falling apart still, but, hey, it works, so he's not complaining.

He gets out and sighs deeply, trying to convince himself it's not for fear. It's just… anticipation. For good news. The good news that werewolf-Jackson is just as stupid as human-Jackson and so he chose the wrong person to bite.

He can even forgive the gash on his neck if that happens. He's getting to the door when it opens abruptly and he stares wide eyed at Isaac, who looks pissed.

"Finally!" he exclaims, rubbing his eyes, "Just get in already, ok?"

And then he starts pushing Stiles to the door, and the boy can only go, because hello, super-strength.

"I knew you'd see reason" Peter says as soon as he sees him, sitting on the pretty much only chair Stiles can see, and staring at his computer screen.

"I'm just here so that dumbass can see I'm _not_ his mate, and you will get off my back" he replies, looking around, looking for Jackson.

"He's in the cell downstairs" Derek says, from the top of the stairs, and Stiles has to fight the urge to question if they rehearse their entrances – the sarcastic first move, the brooding and mysterious appearance.

"In the cell?" he questions, doubtfully – okay, Scott was a jerk at his first full moon, but only _during the full moon_, and not the rest of the time.

"It was the only way to stop him from going after you" Derek replies, and starts walking downstairs.

Stiles follows silently because he's not sure what to say for once.

Derek stops in front of a heavy metal door and starts to unlock it – there's a long whine from the inside which makes the hair on Stiles' neck stand on end, and he puts a hand on Derek's arm.

"You're going in with me, right?" he whispers and the resulting growl from inside makes him rethink the whole thing, "Maybe I can come back later, right?" he says, already backing away from the door, but Derek seems to have reached the limit of his patience and reaches out for him, opening the door briefly and pushing Stiles in.

"You'll be just fine" Derek says with a small smirk, letting go of his arm.

He stumbles forward, and hears the sound of the door being closed again, a low growl, and then Stiles is being pushed against the wall, there's a mouth on his neck, and a hand holding his hips, another twisting his arms together and pushing it against the wall, over his head.

"_Mine"_ he hears, and the word makes his heart skip a beat.

Jackson didn't mark him by accident then.

"Stop!" he says, trying to get away from the other teen – he can't _see_ in here, he can't see what Jackson is _doing_, he can only feel the scrape of teeth against his neck again, the hard breathing against his skin, the strength of Jackson's arms holding him in place – and not even _one_ of those things are good or exciting: it's freaking _terrifying_.

He's so afraid he's pretty sure he's going to have a panic attack.

"Jackson, stop! Get off me, STOP!" he screams, and it only serves to make Jackson growl louder and hold him tighter.

In the darkness he can see a pair of bright, glowing blue eyes glaring at him so hard Stiles isn't sure how he can't _feel_ the weight of it.

"_You're mine_" it's a growl more than a sentence, and Stiles doesn't answer, his brain short-circuiting.

He's almost sure that if he agrees, if he says he's Jackson's, the other teen will probably loosen his hold, even if only a bit, but he _can't_.

_He does not belong to Jackson_.

"Let go of me. Now" he says, trying to make his voice strong and sure, but he knows he's not really successful.

"You're mine" Jackson repeats, his voice more human, but sounding just as angry as before, "You're _mine_ and you reek of other wolf and _her_."

It's an accusation, but hell if Stiles will apologize for smelling like Scott and Lydia.

"I'm not yours" he says, and realizes it's a mistake when the growl intensifies and Jackson pushes against him again, not a breath between them, mouth on his neck, snarling, mouthing his barely healed cut, and pushing his neck to the other side, biting it less ferociously, but it's a close thing.

"NO!" he screams, "HELP! DEREK!" his voice is trembling, and his shouts are rough, but he doesn't care, he's not going to bleed to death in a cellar because Derek thinks it's funny.

Whatever his voice sounded like it must have been enough for Derek to believe he's in real danger, because the Alpha opens the door and roars, making Jackson pull him back, lower his head, but not let go of Stiles.

He pushes Stiles behind him and he stumbles, almost falling.

"I brought you your mate, and you're hurting him?" Derek says, and Jackson whines a bit, looking down, "This is not what we agreed on."

"He smells like Scott and Lydia" Jackson says, as if that's an explanation, "It's not _right_."

"I know" Derek says, and Stiles would protest, but he's pretty sure that will make whatever sort of control Derek has going on slip, and Jackson will attack him again, "But you are scaring him, and you are hurting him."

Derek stares at Jackson and the younger werewolf sighs, rolling his neck a bit, opening and closing his hands, as if trying to calm down.

"It won't happen again. Just let me… He needs to smell like _me_" he says, and Derek nods, taking a step towards the door.

"No!" Stiles shouts, "Don't leave me here, I can't… not here! I can't see in here, I don't even know what he's doing, not here, you can't leave me here!" his voice is panicked, and afraid and small, so much so that Derek looks like he's regretting his earlier decision of leaving him here with Jackson.

"You two can come up if you do what he says" Derek orders and Stiles nods in agreement, because anything is better than being here.

Jackson grabs him by the hip, pulling him close as they walk to the door and follow Derek upstairs. Stiles tries to calm his breathing, but he's having a hard time doing it.

Jesus freaking Christ, he wants nothing to do with this.

"Is there a way to break this?" he asks once they are upstairs, and Jackson growls, pulling him even closer and glaring at him, "Come on, you can't tell me you're happy you're saddled with _me_, Jackson. You're not. You hate me."

Jackson doesn't answer immediately, he stares at Stiles for a moment, glaring all the time.

"You're mine. There's no breaking it. There's no you leaving me. You _belong_ to me."

Stiles is so angry at that he can't even _talk_, and tries to step away from Jackson again, but Derek puts a hand on his shoulder.

"You said you'd do what he said. I can always let him drag you back to that cell."

Stiles glares at him and looks around. Peter is staring at them with a blank face, and Isaac is nowhere to be seen. Jackson is still glaring.

Stiles notices Jackson made a whole speech about Stiles belonging to him, but he doesn't deny that he hates Stiles.

This sure is healthy.

"He just needs to scent you" Peter ends up saying, "He spent too long without seeing you, he'll break out of Neanderthal mode as soon as he's reassured you're not disappearing, that you're here. It won't always be this bad, as long as you don't fight it."

He says that as if it's a reasonable request.

Stiles doesn't say anything, though, he looks at Jackson, eye to eye, not backing down.

"What do you want me to do?" he asks through gritted teeth, and Jackson doesn't answer immediately – he drags Stiles to a piece of crap couch, in a corner of the blackened room, and pushes Stiles to it, falling over him, covering every inch of Stiles' body with his own.

"Jesus Christ, what are you _doing_?" he shouts, pushing at Jackson's shoulders, but the other teen isn't listening, too busy burying his face in Stiles neck and breathing in deeply, and licking his neck next.

"What part of it's easier if you don't fight it didn't you get?" Peter asks, and he sounds amused.

"The part where I'm being about to get raped by a werewolf in front of an audience" he snaps back, and senses, more than hears or sees, that Jackson has just let out a small chuckle against his neck.

"I'm not going to rape you. I'm serious about the scent, it's driving me crazy" he raises his head and stares at Stiles firmly, "Do not go near them again" he orders, and Stiles is about to open his mouth and tell him he can't tell Stiles who to see or not when Peter cleans his throat and stares pointedly at him.

Ok, shutting up for now.

This isn't over, though.

Stiles's never had the ability of standing still, and having Jackson's body over his isn't helping.

"What do people think happened to you, anyway?" he asks, just to have something to talk about or he'll end up going crazy.

Jackson shifts, attacking the other side of his neck for a bit before answering.

"My parents know… everything. They're okay with it. My dad was worried, but he saw me, and he saw how dangerous I was, and he talked to Peter." He licks Stiles neck, and the other boy closes his eyes in disgust, "I'll be able to go home soon, though, now that you're here. After the full moon" he finishes.

"Right" Stiles answers, and his breathing is starting to get out of control again, "I need… I need to go home. I told my dad I'd be home soon, I can't be late, he's pissed at me."

Jackson starts growling and moves so he can stare at Stiles properly, and Stiles glares at him again.

"I don't know what you're pissy about. My dad doesn't know about this mess, okay? And by the way, I could be arrested for being here – you have a restraining order against me" he says, and Jackson's eyes widen, as if he had forgotten about it.

He actually looks a bit guilty when he lets Stiles stand up.

"You'll come back, right?" the blond asks and Stiles swallows hard, looking at Peter and Derek before answering.

"Yeah… I'll… I'll come by tomorrow, okay?" his heart is hammering in his chest, but it's not a lie.

Jackson nods briefly.

"I don't want you going home alone, it's dangerous" he says, and Stiles takes a deep breath, but he's spared the trouble of answering to that by Peter.

"I'll go with him. I'll enjoy having a stroll in the woods on my way back."

Jackson nods and Stiles starts going to the door, but is pulled back by Jackson, who puts one of his arms around Stiles waist, and the other on the back of his neck, and kisses him.

Or maybe it'd be a kiss if Stiles contributed, but it's more like a pushing of Jackson's lips against his, forceful and hungry and so very, very wrong.

When Jackson lets go, Stiles doesn't say anything – he turns and walks out, trying to regain his breathing.

Peter gets in his Jeep after him, and he drives, still silent.

When they are far enough from the house that not even werewolf hearing would make it possible for Stiles to be heard he parks the car, and drops his head between his knees, breathing – in and out, he can do it.

Peter lets him do this for a few minutes before speaking.

"As far as mates go, you could do a lot worse, Stiles" he comments, and Stiles laughs a bit hysterically.

"Will it always be this bad?" he asks, and Peter snorts – Stiles can practically _see_ his face contorting in contempt.

"_That_ wasn't bad. He has an impressive amount of control. It won't get any worse if you stop fighting this. The more you fight…"

"The worse it gets. Yeah, I caught that the first fifteen times."

"I don't think you did" Peter says, "He was almost normal by the end of it. Letting you go after just a few minutes like that? That's restraint. He's trying. You should try too."

Stiles is silent for a long moment.

"I don't think I can. Not with him."

"Why? Is he so bad?" Peter asks, and he sounds genuinely curious.

Stiles raises his head and looks at the man.

"I could manage this if it was _anyone_ else. Isaac, Scott, Derek – even you. I could. I swear I could. But _Jackson_?" he shakes his head, and Peter stares at him for a moment, as if trying to decipher him.

"I'm not one for counseling, but I'll say this to you, Stiles: he won't let you go. You can either make this work, and then you'll have a wonderful life, with a man who'll do _anything_ for you, and a healthy relationship, or you'll have a crazy, possessive boyfriend whom you can't break up with."

"Healthy? Derek didn't make it sound as if there's any way this can be healthy."

Peter laughs bitterly.

"Those are Derek's issues, but yes, it can happen. His parents, for instance. My mate."

Stiles is surprised by that.

"She…" he starts, trailing off, and Peter nods at him.

"She died in the fire. One of the many reasons I was that crazy when I came to my senses in the hospital. We were a healthy and happy couple, ask anyone who remembers us – but you can't keep fighting this."

Stiles doesn't say anything – he turns the car back on and goes home.

He won't say he'll do something he doesn't know he can.

**X**

He needs to tell Scott. That's a fact. He also needs to tell something to his dad, because he's got _hickeys_ all over both sides of his neck, and on his collarbone, and his dad will sure want to know what's going on there.

He doesn't _want_ to tell them. It feels like the more people know the more real it becomes.

He and his dad are sitting down for dinner, and Stiles is struggling more with his words than usual – they can't seem to decide if they want to come out all at once or not come at all.

"Dad, I have to tell you something" he starts, and his dad stares at him hopefully.

Oh, man, this is bad.

"I…" but then he's interrupted by the doorbell.

Maybe it's a sign he shouldn't tell anything to his dad. Nothing at all.

They look at each other and Stiles shrugs a bit, getting up to answer the door.

And there's _Jackson's parents_ standing there.

_Jackson's-parents_.

"Good night, Stiles. Could we talk to you and your dad for a minute?"

Apparently having heard the request, his dad is already coming to the door too, and he's staring angrily at Stiles – of course, he says he has to tell his dad something, and then the parents of the boy who has a restraining order against him show up. Stiles can't blame him.

"Is there a problem?" the Sheriff asks, gesturing the couple inside, and Jackson's mom smiles wide.

"Oh, no, not at all. At least not for Stiles" she smiles at him, and Stiles tries to smile back, but he can't. What the hell is going on? "Jackson would probably be in trouble right now, but what with the scare he gave us all at the day of the game…" she shudders a bit and the Sheriff looks sympathetic.

He guides the couple to the living-room, and Stiles kind of hovers, not knowing what he should do.

"You should sit, Stiles. After all, this is about you too" Jackson's dad says kindly, and the boy sits beside his dad.

Right. Stepford-parents, is that it?

"We came here, Sheriff Stilinski, to apologize. Jackson told us a few days ago that the whole prank your son and Scott McCall pulled was actually his idea, he was in the middle of it, and he was afraid we would be angry. When it all went wrong, he begged the boys to leave him out of it – and apparently, for reasons that we'll get to in a moment, he thought it'd be better to accuse them. He was scared, as he had a right to be. After all, our boys don't exactly have a history of being the best of friends." He smiles again, and Stiles is, now, just as lost as his dad.

"What do you mean?" the Sheriff asks.

"Have you told you dad the good news yet, Stiles?" Jackson's mom asks, and the boy pales.

The good news? Hey, dad, this guy who hates me is a werewolf and I'm his now? Sure as hell not!

He shakes his head, and his dad stares at him for a few seconds, seeing how pale he is. John looks worried.

"Well, I'm sorry for breaking it for him, sweetie, but Jackson is worried you two started this the wrong way, and he thought it'd be better if your dad heard it from us" she explains before turning to his dad again, "You see, Sheriff, Jackson is in love with your son. He has… issues, as you know, and he was confused for a while, but now that he and Stiles are together, finally, we had to make sure you knew the restraining order was dropped, just as well as all other charges against Stiles and Scott."

Stiles would have something to say, but… did she just say _in love_?

Jackson is not IN LOVEwith him, Jackson thinks he _owns_ him, there's a HUGE difference there.

"-the equivalent of pulling pigtails, but of course he took it a bit too far" Jackson's dad is saying, and Stiles knows he lost a bit of conversation.

"I'll say, I temporarily lost my job for it" John accuses, and Stiles is now intrigued.

What if his dad refused to give permission for him and Jackson?

It could work.

"We know, and we deeply apologize. Jackson is going through a rough patch, Sheriff, and we are practically family now, so I won't lie to you. We think Stiles could be good for him, straighten him out, so to speak, out of his bad habits. Your son is a sweet and caring young man, there could be no one better for our Jackson" the other teen's mom says, and Stiles is startled to realize she actually sounds as if she _means it_.

What the hell?!

His dad still looks doubtful, and Jackson's dad looks understanding.

"We know it's a lot to apologize for, but I know these past few months have been really difficult for our boys. The lying and the disappearing, and the injuries – you know what we are talking about, Sheriff" he cajoles and Stiles can see his dad's resolution crumbling, because, yes, he knows all that – just not as well as Jackson's parents seem to do, "And now to know that they can finally stop doing this, and that they found comfort in each other…" he trails off and smiles a bit sadly, "Jackson actually told us he loved us, this afternoon, after we agreed to come and talk to you. Do you know how much this means to us? And it's all because of Stiles" he finishes.

Right. Because of him, or maybe Jackson's furry problem.

Or even more possibly his acting skills and a deep desire to deceive everyone.

John finally sighs.

"I had no idea about any of this" he says, and stares at Stiles who is lost. What is he supposed to say?

"I… didn't know how to tell you without sounding crazy" he ends up saying, and his dad rubs his eyes.

"Thank you for coming here, Mrs. And Mrs. Whittemore" John says, "But if you'll excuse us, I think I and Stiles need to talk." They both get up from the couch, nodding.

"Oh, please, Sheriff, call us Emily and Mark" she says, smiling all the way, and John actually cracks a small smile.

"Only if you call me John."

Everyone has boarded the crazy ship now, and Stiles is pretty sure he's the only one sane enough to see how crazy this whole thing is.

Also, Stiles feels like his dad just agreed to some sort of arranged marriage between him and Jackson.

And he's obviously the girl in it.

What the hell, man? Weren't werewolves and Kanimas and hunters enough? Why did this have to happen to _him_ of all people?

When he stops raging in his head, his dad has already said his goodbyes to Jackson's parents, and Stiles manages a small wave.

They go back to the kitchen, and his dad stares at him.

"That… was weird" the man states putting a forkful of food in his mouth. Stiles snorts.

"You're telling _me_. I didn't even know Jackson was going to take this this seriously and then his _parents_ come here. What the hell was that? I feel like a lady in a cheap paperback book."

His dad laughs at that, and it's a bit less strained, a bit happier.

He is starting to believe this is what Stiles had been lying about all this time.

Oh, man.

"You'd make an adorable damsel in distress" he comments, smirking, and Stiles throws a carrot at him, "However… I feel like I should apologize" he says more seriously, and Stiles stares at his dad.

"What for?" he asks, and John sighs, putting his fork down, rubbing his eyes again.

"You've been… not yourself lately, Stiles. And you tried to let me know things. That day at the Police Station. The other night at that dance club – and I dismissed you. I kept accusing you of hiding something from me, and yet every time you tried to tell me, I dismissed you."

"You mean… the day I told you I could be gay and you said I wasn't?" Stiles asks, with a hint of a smile, and John huffs.

"Yes, Stiles. That."

"If it makes you feel any better, none of those things had anything to do with Jackson. Mostly. He was in the middle of it, he was the reason I was in that club, but I didn't know he'd be… interested in me like that. It's very… recent."

_Very_ recent, as in, he mauled my neck twelve days ago and this afternoon he kissed me, but I didn't kiss him back, and now I smell like him, but that's all.

"You know, I never took you to be Jackson's type" he comments before leaving the kitchen.

Stiles snorts.

"You're telling _me_ that. I swore to God he was Lydia's forever, and my heart was broken, and then he goes, oh, no, Stiles, you're mine" he rambles – because it's the truth.

His dad is going to think he was heartbroken because of _Jackson_, but what is half a lie for someone like him?

"I'm not sure how I feel about this" John says, and Stiles stares at him, scared.

Okay, if his dad is going to have issues about him being gay his whole life might as well be over, because he isn't even having that crises – he sure _as hell_ is not falling for Jackson.

As far as he gets it, he _belongs_ to Jackson, and that's not going to change. He can understand that even if he doesn't want to think about it, but having this sort of issue with _his dad_ when he isn't even _having this issue_ – that's just too much.

"Not you liking boys" John says fast, probably reading something very bad in Stiles' expression, "But this whole… thing. If this boy is the reason you were lying and deceiving me, then I don't think he's good for you. Plus, what kind of person issues a _restraining order_ against someone they have a crush on? Are you sure about this?"

He looks so worried, Stiles thinks, and all he can do is laugh bitterly.

"I know. I was… so pissed, because he was in the middle of it, and of course no one had any idea about this… _us_ thing that is going on now, dad. It was… hard. And confusing" he makes a pause, and shrugs again, "But if it helps any, he wasn't even around for most of the trouble I was in last year. That is all on me and Scott, and us trying to do the right thing without thinking first. We felt guilty about accusing Derek Hale of something he didn't do, and tried to help him; we felt weird about Matt following Allison around and tried to stop him. We were really, _really_ trying to do the right thing."

His dad looks at him with a mixed expression of pride and despair.

"That is not your job, Stiles. You're a kid. You don't have to help anyone but yourself."

Stiles thinks about Jackson and Derek, and Scott and Allison, even Peter and Isaac and Lydia, and Boyd and Erica. He thinks about being beaten up by Gerard and breaking his Jeep apart to help the pack against the crazy hunter.

He thinks how much of that he _had_ to do, and he knows he didn't _have_ to do any of it – he did it because he felt it was the right thing to do, to keep the ones he cared about safe.

Just like him going with this Jackson madness thing is just to keep his dad and Scott safe.

He doesn't do these things because _he_ has to do them.

He does them because someone else needs him to.

"I'll try to do better" he promises, and his father snorts, putting his dirty dishes in the sink.

"Maybe you should do less better and more keep out of it altogether" he comments, messing with his son's hair.

"I'll try" he says with a grin, and John laughs.

"Yeah, maybe Jackson will keep you in a leash" he says, laughing and leaving the kitchen, going to his room, to get ready for the night shift.

He has _no idea_ how close to the truth he was.

**X**

They ride in the car in silence, not talking, but their hands are tangled together between their seats.

"Do you think we did the right thing? Not telling John the whole thing?" Emily asks, and Mark sighs.

"It was what Jackson asked us to do, honey" he says, and she squeezes her hand.

"I know… I would feel better if Stiles' dad knew everything, though. It's a lot to take in, Mark, you know it is. You know _we_ would have had a harder time accepting it if it wasn't for the fact that being what he is now is what made sure Jackson was alive after that thing at the game. John has a right to know what his son is getting himself into."

Mark is silent for a little while.

"You may be right, Em, but truth is Stiles has to be the one to tell him, don't you think?"

Emily doesn't look convinced.

"I don't know. I don't like this lying, and I know we have to protect Jackson, but John is the Sheriff. If anything, he'll be better able to help the boys in his position if anything should happen."

"Emily, Jackson has just started trusting us, for the first time in his life ever since he found out he was adopted. Do you really want to put that trust at risk?" Mark questions his wife. He knows he's pushing it, but he won't lose his son now that it looks like Jackson might actually _believe_ they love him unconditionally.

They love that kid with everything they have and he's finally starting to _believe_ them. They can't lose that now. They'll deal with the consequences when they come.

Emily sighs.

"You're right" she says, looking out of the window, "I just wish this full moon business goes by fast. That house is unhealthy" she shudders a bit, wrinkling her nose in disgust of the Hale place.

Mark laughs at his wife's expression.

"Four more days and he'll be home with us, safe and sound" he looks at her, smiling, and she smiles in return.

Their son will be happy. They'll do anything to make sure of it.

Even lie to the Sheriff.

* * *

**Another one done!**

**I'm not sure I'll be able to update tomorrow, but I'll try!**

**Let me know what you're thinking of it!**

**REVIEW!**


	4. even if you can't see the light

**Keep Walking**

**even if you can't see the light**

Stiles finishes cleaning up the kitchen as his dad leaves, and he sighs. He'll take a shower and try to find Scott online on Skype.

It's better if he does this telling thing all at once.

He knows, rationally, that he should do this in private, in person, with his friend face to face, but the ghost feeling of Jackson's hands – _clawed_ hands – all over him, the tone of his voice saying he smelt like Scott, the anger, the danger… it makes him reconsider.

He's not giving in, but he's not stupid – full moon is in three days, and he doesn't want a repeat of the scenting thing.

Skype it is.

Fortunately, Scott is online and answers immediately when Stiles calls him.

"Hey" he greets his friends, trying for chipper and sounding a bit maniac. He's all over the place, Jesus Christ.

"Hey, man. How did it go with Lydia?"

Lydia? Man, Lydia is so far from his mind right now he can't even _believe_ his talk with her happened earlier that day.

"Awful. She's really leaving" he answers, and Scott's face screws up in sympathy.

"But why? I thought after the whole thing with Jackson she'd be fine." He looks so confused, like a little kid, "Did she freak out _now_?"

"Ok, I've got to tell you something, because I know why Lydia is leaving but there's a lot I have to tell you first." He makes a pause, and Scott stares at his screen, looking even more confused than before, "Is Allison your mate?" he ends up asking, and he can see Scott's face going miserable, as it always does when Allison is mentioned, and then a bit afraid, as if he's fearing Stiles will be pissed with his answer.

"How do you know about mates?" he asks instead of answering, and Stiles snorts a laugh, bitter and incredulous.

"I had a crash course in it. Is she?" he presses and Scott nods reluctantly.

"Derek told me about it a while ago. I didn't tell you before because, well, it seems creepy. It is creepy. Allison doesn't even know about it, and I don't know how to tell her, but at the same time, I know that's what will make sure we're okay in the end, you know? We'll be fine. She'll come around, because I love her, and she's my mate, and I'm hers" he says all that with a certainty that seems to be just as much for himself as it is for Stiles, and Stiles remembers Peter telling him this could be a good thing.

Sure, if you're _in love_ with the person who is your mate, absolutely.

"Have you marked her?" he asks, and Scott looks definitely uncomfortable for a moment, before shaking his head.

"No. I don't have to, we have time" he sounds so sure Stiles is starting to believe this whole thing is just messed up on his end.

Why him? Why did _he_ get the uncontrollable werewolf with no self-restraint whatsoever? Why couldn't he get someone he actually liked, that would respect his choices, and think about _him_ every once in a while?

Why?

"Why are you asking me all this?" Scott asks, closer to the cam, forehead all wrinkled in confusion.

"You remember that night, at the warehouse, what Jackson did to me?"

"Yeah, he bit you" Scott says, blinking at him.

Scott is going to make him say it, won't he? He can't follow the breadcrumbs trail, he has to hear things spelled out.

"How do you mark your mate, Scott?" he asks, irritably, and he sees the second realization dawns on him, his eyes widening, and his mouth hanging open.

"No way!" he says, and Stiles shrugs, looking down, "No way, man, you're like, in love with his _girlfriend_!"

"_Ex-_girlfriend" Stiles replies, "She's leaving because of me. She can't take it, staying here, knowing I get Jackson and she doesn't. As if I want him at all."

Scott is silent for a while, staring at the screen.

"What are you going to do?" his friend ends up asking, looking just as depressed as Stiles feels.

"I don't know, man. What _can_ I do? You're the wolfy here, you have the whole instinct crap, what _can_ I do?" he stares at Scott's face on his screen, and the other boy looks as if he's thinking _really_ hard about something.

"I don't think there's anything you _can_ do" he answers, almost whispering, "I mean, he _marked_ you, that's pretty final. I didn't… I couldn't do that to Allison, I knew she wouldn't be able to… _choose_ things after. She'd be… mine."

"Did Derek tell you that?" Stiles questions, and Scott shakes his head.

"No. You just… _know_. You mark your mate and they'll be tied to you, forever, and I couldn't do that. The urge was there, but I couldn't."

"_How_? How did you fight it, how could you _not do it_? Why couldn't _Jackson_ have that kind of control?" Stiles rages for a bit, all flailing hands and indignation, but Scott just shakes his head again, looking even more uncomfortable than before.

"I don't know, man. I mean, it's Jackson. Who knows why he does anything? He's such a douche" his eyes widen then and he looks at Stiles in a bit of a panic, "Sorry!" he says, and Stiles laughs, startled.

"You don't have to apologize for saying the truth. He _is_ a douche. And a jerk."

"And your mate" Scott completes, looking down.

They don't say anything for a while, not knowing what _could_ be said not to make the whole thing worse.

"He doesn't want me hanging out with you anymore" Stiles says, and Scott frowns, but it's fast and then his face is understanding.

"Because of the scent, right?"

"Yeah. He had no problem with Isaac or Derek, though. Or Peter" Stiles comments, spinning his chair around a bit.

"Because they're a part of his pack" Scott says, nodding, and Stiles covers his eyes with his hands, in a bit of despair, because his best friend says that as if it's a reasonable explanation.

"So what? I won't be able to be near you anymore, because you're not Derek's? How fair is _that_? I'm _your_ pack!" he says, stopping his spinning and facing the screen, where Scott looks very, _very_ uncomfortable.

"Not anymore" he says in a whisper, looking down, "You're Jackson's. If he marked you, you're his, and you're a part of whatever pack he is a part of, and that's Derek's."

Stiles looks at the screen open mouthed, and honest to God, he's about to cry.

Okay, Scott is not the best friend in the market, but he has stuck with Stiles through _everything_ ever since they became friends. Everything. Even when Stiles used to make fun of him all the time, when they got roughed up by bullies at school, when Stiles got kicked out of class for being too loud, when Scott almost got held back because of his grades – everything.

And now they couldn't be friends anymore because of _Jackson_?

Was he going to take _everything_ away from Stiles until he was all that was left? Was that how he'd assure Stiles wouldn't leave him – apart from the whole hunting him down part, of course.

Was that how he was going to make Stiles want him back?

By taking everything else away?

And then another thought strikes him.

"Dude, if I'm not your pack, and Allison is… well, not _with_ you right now, are you going to go Omega? You can't let that happen!" he says, panicking on Scott's behalf this time.

His friend shakes his head, looking pensive.

"No… I won't. Look, I've got to go, okay? I'll talk to you tomorrow. I'll call and everything – Jackson is such a jerk normally, I'm sure smelling me on you won't make things better between the two of you. I'll call, okay? Don't… freak out" he says and then logs out.

Okay, then. Leave Stiles alone to freak out over his friend being weaker than he should be on top of everything else and disappear, why don't you, Scott?

He sighs and drops on his bed, exhausted and at the same time wide awake. Too much information on a single day, he doesn't want to deal with everything, and he knows he has to, or it'll just build up until he has no other option but freak out _immensely_, which usually leads to a panic attack.

He hasn't had them in years, but he'd feel very justified in having a nervous breakdown over this situation. He closes his eyes for a minute, but he must doze off at some point, because next thing he knows, there's a hand on his shoulder, and when he opens his eyes, a pair of very, very blue eyes is staring down at him.

"Gah!" he screams, and would have fallen out of the bed if the hand on his shoulder hadn't held him down, "Jesus Christ, what the hell are you doing here?!" he says, and Jackson smirks down at him.

"Derek let me out to come here. We knew your father was on the night shift today, and you'd be alone, and you shouldn't be alone."

Stiles looks at him – sitting on _his_ bed, looking smug as if he _belongs_ there, his hand still on his shoulder.

"I'd rather be alone than with you" he mutters, and Jackson growls, barring his teeth at him, but Stiles just glares right back, the hand on his shoulder tightening, and claws going through the fabric of his shirt.

"Are you really this stupid?" another voice says, and Stiles looks out, to where Peter is sitting _on his windowsill_. His eyes widen and his mouth is hanging open. What is it with his house, a werewolf camping site? "Don't worry about me, I'm just here to defend your virtue" the older man says, smirking at him.

Before Stiles can answer, Jackson is taking his hand away from him.

"Why do you have to make this so damn difficult?" the blond says, burying his hands in his hair, facing the other side of the room.

"You don't want the answer for that" he says, sitting up.

This is so awkward.

Stiles sighs and looks from one werewolf to the other.

"So… what? You're going to stay here all night? I wanted to sleep."

"So sleep" Jackson replies, staring at him angrily, "I'm not stopping you."

"Yes, you are. I'm not going to sleep with the two of you here, that's just creepy" he says, getting up.

"Then don't, but we're not leaving" the other teen says, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring.

"You're like a very small, very spoilt child, do you know that?" Stiles says to him, going to his computer and turning it on, "You always have to get your way, and you don't care about anything else. It's infuriating!" he rants, his back to the other two, "Seriously, how did Lydia stand you for so long?"

"Because I'm great at sex" Jackson deadpans, "Also, she was way easier to deal with than you, because she actually _wanted me around_" he hisses the last part, and Stiles wants to smile because he's at least getting a rise out of Jackson.

If he's suffering than so is the douchebag.

They stay in silence after that, and Stiles turns briefly to see Peter sitting on the floor, leafing through a book Stiles had been reading earlier, and looking for all the world as if he's pretty comfy in being trapped with two moody teens.

Weird, weird guy.

"She's leaving, you know?" Stiles ends up questioning, and he hears Jackson turn to him sharply, "Before… before I went to see you, I went to her house, that's why I smelled like her. She's leaving because of… this."

"She'll be happier away from here" he ends up saying after a few moments, and Stiles looks at him finally – Jackson is staring down, looking sad and broken.

It tugs a bit at Stiles' heart.

"You should go and say goodbye" Stiles says softly, and Jackson looks at him disdainfully.

"Are you trying to use Lydia to get me to leave you alone here?" he asks, sneering all the way, and Stiles shakes his head, sighing loudly.

"No, you jerk! I'm telling you the girl who's in love with you is going away because you couldn't control yourself and had to bite me! She's hurt and sad, because she _still loves you_, and you should be at least half decent and apologize before saying goodbye!"

Jackson is silent for a few moments and Stiles thinks that maybe, just _maybe_ things are getting through to Jackson. But then the other teen gets up and walks to Stiles slowly and menacing, teeth bared.

"You care about her, don't you? You still want her, even though you _belong to me_!" he says, grabbing Stiles' arm and pulling him from his chair.

"That's not what I said! She deserves to hear you say goodbye!" he argues, but Jackson is not listening. He drags Stiles to the bed and throws him on it, making the teen look at Peter who stares at them carefully but doesn't interfere.

"What are you doing?!" he asks when Jackson lays on top of him, holding him tight, and Stiles try to get away, but Peter clears his throat, and through his panic he looks at the man.

"Calm down" the man mouths without making a sound and gets up, standing just a few feet away from them.

"We are sleeping. You said you wanted to sleep, then do it" Jackson says as if that solves everyone's problem.

Stiles is quiet and tries not to move.

Peter looks at him approvingly before going to the teen's computer chair and sitting down, book in his hands.

Every time he moves Jackson growls, so he tries to stop it. It's hard, but he thinks he can do it – if he tries really, really hard.

About fifteen minutes into this, he loses his patience. This is _his house_, _his_ bed. He can't breathe properly with Jackson draped over him like this, he's not comfortable, he doesn1't want to _be here_. He sighs and tries to get Jackson off him, throw him off the bed, pushing at his shoulders with everything he has, but the blond merely bars his teeth again, facing him, holding him down.

"I told you to sleep" he growls, and Stiles stares at him mutinously.

"I don't want to" he answers, glaring at Jackson.

Jackson's eyes glow blue for a moment, and then he's biting Stiles' neck again – not with the same force as the first one, but enough to draw a little blood. He tries to shout, but one of Jackson's hands covers his mouth.

"Be quiet, close your eyes, and sleep" the other teen orders, the smell of his own blood evident even to him, a simple human.

He doesn't move for the rest of the night.

He doesn't sleep either, staring at a corner of his room, feeling Jackson's weight over him, Peter's eyes searching his face for long minutes at a time.

It's five in the morning when he hears his father's car getting to the driveway and it's only then that Jackson gets up and leaves through the window, not saying anything.

Stiles swallows hard, and Peter lingers for a bit. He closes his eyes and is startled when he feels Peter running a hand over his hair.

"I'll get Derek to talk to him" he promises, and Stiles simply nods, because he doesn't know what to do.

Peter leaves too.

He listens to his father's shower being turned on and then off, and his door closing on the other side of the corridor.

And that's when he finally turns around in his bed, hos body shaking with the aftermath of the whole night – he honestly thinks he's in shock. He buries his head in his pillow, his screams muffled by it, and the tears soaking the pillowcase.

He can't do this.

He just… can't do this.

And he's starting to question if he even wants to try.

**X**

Scott logs out of Skype and picks up his phone – he has to do it now or he'll lose his nerve. He has to do this.

He just… he has to do this. It's time to face the music, and face the truth of his choices. He can't run away from things now – before, he could keep this up, but now Stiles is in danger.

He sends out a text and waits for a few minutes, biting his nails nervously.

Finally he gets an answer.

He leaves a note for his mom and gets out of the house on his bike.

He has to do this.

**X**

Derek stares at his phone for a long minute before going over to Peter.

He doesn't say anything, just throws the thing at him, and waits.

Peter looks at him with an eyebrow raised.

"You're the Alpha. You know why he's doing this. It's your decision" the man says, shrugging, and Derek sighs. Things aren't easy, and with their luck, they'll get worse. He hasn't gotten Erica and Boyd back yet, Jackson is turning out to be way more trouble than he's worth, even worse because of this mate business, and his pack, instead of growing, seems to be getting smaller.

He stares at the phone for a few more minutes and then answers the text, putting it back in his pocket.

"Jackson" he calls, and the blond looks away from the window, where he's glaring at nothing in particular – actually, he's glaring at the place where Isaac is, outside.

Jackson, of course, can't be outside, because he's out of control, and the only time Derek has actually seen him talking coherently was that afternoon, when Stiles was there.

"I think you should get Peter and go over to your mate's house. His dad is working tonight, you shouldn't leave him alone" Derek says, and he _knows_ Peter is smirking. Whatever, the only thing that seems to get through Jackson is Stiles, then so be it.

The teen doesn't question it – he just looks excited and happy, and follows Peter out of the house. Derek closes his eyes – he _really_ doesn't want to think what this full moon will be like. He trembles just _thinking _about it.

Ten minutes after Jackson and Peter leave, Isaac wonders back inside – the teen _can't stand_ Jackson, and Derek can't blame him. Jackson is a very difficult person, going through a very difficult time, and it'd be hard dealing with him on normal circumstances. With this mate business? He's _unbearable_.

That doesn't mean Derek will abandon him, though – Stiles _stinks_ of rejection, he wants nothing to do with Jackson, he so clearly _despises_ his mate it makes Derek want to flinch. And Jackson can't do anything about it, so he'll hold on tighter and tighter.

Either they'll work it out, or this will end up messy and ugly. And, of course, Stiles is the son of the Sheriff, so messy and ugly isn't really an option.

That's why he's doing what he's doing right now – accepting Scott's request for a talk.

The teen gets to his house just a few minutes after Isaac gets in, and he senses his Beta's happiness at seeing the other werewolf – Scott is a good guy all around. He knows how to make nice, and he knows how to make people like him – or maybe he doesn't_ know_, but they do it, anyway.

He's lovable.

Not a very remarkable quality on an Alpha, or even a Beta, but Derek is taking whatever he can get right now – especially to help in this Jackson-Stiles situation.

The younger werewolf doesn't need to know that, though.

Scott looks as uncomfortable as he can possibly be, and he stares at Derek with a lost expression – one Derek hasn't seen on him ever since Derek talked to him about mates, months ago.

"So, Scott, you said wanted to talk, talk" he states with a cold smile, standing with his arms crossed in front of his chest, as uninviting as it's possible.

"I… I'm here because of Stiles, ok? I won't lose him too" he says moodily, and Derek arches an eyebrow at him.

"So, what? You want me to kill one of my Betas so you can have your friend back? Stiles is ours now, he's a part of our pack. He belongs to Jackson, and Jackson belongs to me" Derek says cruelly, and Scott flinches.

He didn't have to be this cold, but what Scott said to him at the warehouse, that had hurt.

He never said he couldn't hold a grudge.

"I'd never ask you to kill someone, Derek" the teen replies, angrily, "You were the one who wanted to kill Jackson, not me, remember?"

Derek doesn't answer, he just stares at Scott, unimpressed.

"I…" Scott takes a deep breath and looks at Isaac for a moment, before continuing, "Look, I'm doing this for Stiles, ok? I can't leave him now, I can't just abandon him, and Jackson won't let me come near him if I'm not…" he stops talking, and stares down moodily, making Derek smirk.

"If you're not what, Scott?"

"Pack. If I'm not your pack. This is… this thing between them, this is bad. This is really, really bad. You have no idea how bad this is, and I'm not letting Stiles face this alone. _You_ don't want Stiles handling this alone" he says, and Derek's curiosity is now picked.

"What do you mean, really bad?"

"You don't know Stiles like I do" Scott replies, shrugging, and Derek stares.

"You're going to have to give me something more than that here, Scott. The last time you asked me to take you in this pack, you betrayed me and told me I wasn't your Alpha in front of the whole pack and a bunch of _hunters_. You are the one asking for something here, not me."

Scott takes a deep breath before speaking.

"Look, Stiles is great, ok? He'd die for me, or his dad, Lydia, even you, I guess. He _cares_ about things, he's amazing, and he won't let anyone go down without a fight. But he is like that with the people he _cares_ about, ok?" Derek nods, and he can see Isaac taking a step forward, interested in this too – after all, this is a member of their pack now, "Thing is, the people he doesn't care about, the ones he doesn't love or like, he couldn't care less about them. He was all for killing you, letting you be arrested, be killed at first. He got to know you, and he changed, sure, he can do that, but his first instinct was to just let you rot. Jackson?" Scott asks, a little bit of despair going in his tone, "He wanted us to kill Jackson ever since we started suspecting he was the Kanima. He _hates_ Jackson. And Jackson is a jerk, he's an awful person, he probably thinks that Stiles should be already falling for him just because it's _him_ – they will _never_ make this work on their own. You know that. And I don't want my best friend to be dead or a killer in three days, so you have to let me help. You have to take me in."

Derek stares at him, not convinced at all.

"Stiles always seemed the most rational of the two of you. He's always helped us" he admits begrudgingly, he doesn't like owing people things, but he _knows_ Stiles' actions have saved all of them more than once.

"Yeah, because I needed him too. Because of me, or his dad, or Lydia. You don't have his dad, and you sure as hell don't have Lydia. You need me" he argues, and Derek stares intently at the teen in front of him.

"You can lose your mate for this. Do you really think Allison is going to _want_ to be claimed by a Beta in a pack whose Alpha is the guy she thinks killed her mother?"

Scott looks down at this, and Derek can smell his uneasiness, but the teen just shakes his head.

"I'll deal with that when the time comes. Am I your pack? Will you take me in?" he asks finally, and Derek glares at him, his eyes glowing red.

"One slip, Scott. One single slip, and you'll wish you were Omega" he threatens, and the boy simply nods.

Derek leaves his Betas in the house and goes out.

He's never wanted to expand his pack like this.

* * *

**Tada!**

**So, Scotty-boy, you're hiding something?**

**Huh. **

**Tell me what you think!**

**REVIEW!**


	5. even when you think there's nothing left

**Keep walking**

**especially when you think there's nothing left**

Rationally he does know this whole thing is crazy. He knows he can't expect Stiles to fall for him, he knows he has to work for it, work _with_ Stiles to make this make sense again, for their lives not to be hell – but he can't.

He's a mess.

He misses _Lydia_. He longs for her desperately, her smell, and the way she used to smile just at him when they were alone – gods, he even misses her power plays, the way she would try to always take advantage of everything, always trying to turn the situation on her favor, he misses watching The Notebook with her, even.

She's saved him – so many times in so many ways, and he had always been a jerk to her, and just when he thought, for those few seconds between finally snapping out of Argent's control and turning into a proper wolf, when he realized things could be okay again, that he actually finally had what he had been asking for, he had felt _his_ smell and it all went to hell.

Consciously, he knew he had screwed up _big_ time. He knew it when Derek explained to him what had happened, he knew it every time Peter stared at him disapprovingly, he knew it when even Isaac called him an idiot – not to his face, but muttering along the Hale property, as if Jackson couldn't listen to him. He had tied them together with that bite.

Forever.

Now he knew that if he hadn't bitten Stiles, they could have worked _around_ it – found a way to make this mate thing go away. The urge would always be there, to bite, to have, to possess, but this… sick feeling he had in the pit of his stomach that only ever went away when Stiles was touching his skin, this despairing need to _see_ Stiles, to _protect_ him, to make sure every single person in the whole fucking _universe_ knew that boy was _his_: this could have been avoided.

But if Jackson is learning something from this whole hellish experience is that wishing, and hoping, and thinking of what could have been done or not done is nothing. It makes no difference, it doesn't help anything.

They are what they are because he did what he did, and they had to find a way to make this work before he ended up killing that idiot.

And then dying. Because from what Peter had said, if your marked mate _died_, from natural causes, it'd be enough to make you _crazy_.

But if you killed them, with your own hands? Well, you were just as good as dead.

They had to talk, he knows it. They have to have a rational, normal conversation, but he _can't_ – Stiles smells afraid all the time, he feels so wrong, he doesn't want this _so clearly_ that Jackson goes insane by just looking at him. He wants to bite him again, mark him one more time to make Stiles see they _belong_.

Of course this is bad. Of course Stiles' rejection of him just gets worse and worse every time they see each other, because who would respond well to threats and growling? No one.

Especially not the boy who used sarcasm and jokes as his defense for so long, and never really knew when to shut up – Stiles had never been afraid of him. Scott would cower from him during Lacrosse practice, back when he wasn't so full of it, but Stiles never did. He answered back, even when he had his ass kicked in response.

And this was the boy he was trying to threaten into… into what? Falling in love with him? Great odds, sure.

It's not like he had always despised Jackson on principle, and things had gotten even worse when he started dating Lydia, and the true cherry on top of it was his being the Kanima. Of course Stiles would fall for him.

Yeah, right.

And this was, of course, just another ridiculous facet of this ridiculous situation – he _was_ attracted to Stiles. He _wanted_ him. In a primal way, nothing like it was with Lydia, he wanted to _have_ him, begging for Jackson – the mere thought of his lips was enough to make his breathing pick up.

Jackson had never felt attracted to another boy like this. Yes, he had made out with a few boys one time or another, he could appreciate Danny and Derek, and even McCall, in an aesthetic way, but he didn't _feel_ for them as he did for girls. They weren't his thing, even if he said to Danny he was everybody's type.

And yet, Stiles was there to make him _know_ he wanted him –the stupid, skinny kid, always with the baggy clothes and the mouth that would never shut.

When they return from Stiles' house that morning he's in a dark, dark mood. It's not rage or anger, it's just… he doesn't even know. Everything seems to be falling apart, and this is not right – things should be looking _up_ now, not down, not getting worse. He sits on the porch and puts his head on his knees, trying to focus, but it's hard.

He can't sleep.

The only night he had actually slept for more than a few shaky minutes at a time had been this one – with Stiles under him. And yet he hadn't rested, because Stiles was tense and in a weird way the boy had felt… empty.

There had been some fear there, of course, he could practically smell it, but he was also containing something. His heartbeat steady, if a little too fast for him to be calm, his eyes open when Jackson had finally fallen asleep, and staring unblinkingly when he woke up because of the sound of the Sheriff's car. He couldn't sleep without Stiles, and Stiles, apparently, couldn't sleep _with_ him.

They couldn't _communicate_. And they _had_ to.

If they didn't, Jackson would have to give up, and he had never been a quitter. Being a werewolf now wouldn't change that, he wouldn't give up without a fight.

He just needed… to know what to do.

He lets the air rush out of him – it's not quite a sigh, it's an irritated, annoyed sound, because he _needs to fix this_, he needs something and he can't get it. Who could help him?

Derek was quite obviously a crappy Alpha, and Isaac wouldn't even be in the same room as him for more than a few seconds, and Peter…

That guy was just all kinds of weird, and wasn't he supposed to be dead, anyway?

"Out of all the angry, broken, emotionally disturbed teens surrounding my dear nephew, Stiles has always been my favorite. Lydia, of course, is a close second, but Stiles has that spark beyond and above that I really admire."

Jackson looks up and sees Peter towering over him with a mocking smile. He doesn't answer, and the smile broadens, Peter sitting beside him on the broken porch.

"He isn't afraid of getting things done, he's smart, he thinks fast, and most importantly, he doesn't let his love blind him. He knows Scott's faults, he knows his father's faults, and yet he cares for them, and protects them, without ever denying that they _are_ faulty. Knowing they aren't perfect" he makes a pause looking sideways at Jackson, who is staring determinedly ahead of him, "Most people have to pretend they don't see their loved one's errors and mistakes. They pretend those people are perfect, and held together and amazing all the time – Stiles doesn't. It's a rare quality, and also a valuable one, because it means he can come to care about _anyone_, even the people he once despised. Just look at him and Derek. He cares about Derek now, in a strange way, but he does. You can make that happen, Jackson" he finishes, and Jackson doesn't answer for a few seconds, because he's never thought about Stiles like that – _hell,_ he's never _thought_ about Stiles at all. Stiles existed in that space where he was either being ignored or told off by Jackson, and then he forgot all about the other boy's existence.

And not his very own existence depended on him.

Very poetic.

"How can he be your favorite, he isn't even a werewolf" he mutters finally, and Peter snorts.

"Not for lack of offering. Derek would bite him in a second if Stiles asked. He doesn't offer it because he knows Scott would be so pissy he'd gain a Beta to lose another" Peter makes a pause, and Jackson can feel the man staring at him at him again, "I offered him the bite. He didn't have to ask, or threaten, or implore. He didn't have to be dying, or have an abusive father or a serious disease. I offered because he'd be a great addition to the pack" he pauses again, and Jackson finally looks at him, curious, "He refused. Lying through his teeth about it, but he refused. He _wanted_ it, and he refused. I don't know why, he must have his own reasons, but he did."

The smirk is gone from Peter's face now, and he's looking at Jackson with a serious expression.

"You don't know him. You have never paid attention to him. You don't even like him. And yet you want to make this work, and you think that growling will take you somewhere. You're not trying, Jackson. And Stiles isn't going to either. You know why?" he asks and makes a pause, during which Jackson doesn't even move, "Because he doesn't have to. He knows, deep down, in that dark corner inside his soul that he doesn't even like admitting he has, that he can manage to find ways to get rid of you. You go crazy on him? Allison will be the first in line to get her dad to kill your sorry ass, and we won't even be able to make trouble about it. You will have deserved it."

Jackson's anger flares up, and his eyes are shining blue.

"Why don't you let it happen, then?" he asks, voice rough and barely controlled, and Peter smirks at him.

"First of all because it's amusing having the two of you around. Second because we _are_ a pack, no matter how broken my nephew's choices in company are. We help each other. But we can't help you if you don't try" he says and gets up, leaving Jackson on the porch, "By the way," he talks again, almost inside the house, "You have to be here for the full moon, but you can go home now. Derek's letting you go" and then he disappears inside the broken house.

Jackson looks at the door and sighs, this time dejectedly.

He doesn't _know_ how to try.

**X**

Stiles assumes he must have slept at some point during his breakdown, because when he comes to, it's already past noon. He takes a deep breath, listening to the faint sounds of dishes being shoved around, and almost smiles, thinking his dad is trying to cook something.

His dad is amazing, but, damn, he can't cook to save his life.

Stiles can't either. Their eating life was sad like that.

He gets up and takes a fast shower, and if he scrubs a little more than absolutely necessary at his neck no one is ever going to know.

When he gets downstairs, his dad is putting some grilled cheese on the table, along with some juice and other snack foods.

"I thought you'd sleep the day away" the man comments, sitting down. Stiles sits too and sighs, sleepily.

"I didn't sleep very well last night. I think I only really slept when you got home" he explains, biting into his food.

John looks at him between exasperated and fond.

"You don't have to worry about me."

"I know. I wasn't. I just couldn't sleep, I heard your car and then I must have passed out after that" he explains, and they keep eating in a silence that isn't strained but isn't comfortable either – there are no comfortable silences when Stiles is around because he hates the silence. The very fact that he isn't speaking is a sure sign that something is very wrong with the boy, and Stiles knows his father knows that too.

"Are you hanging out with Jackson later?" John finally asks, staring at Stiles sideways, and Stiles looks at him, startled – he so wasn't expecting that question.

"I… uh… I'm not sure. We didn't… talk about this. Yet. Actually, I haven't even talked to him about his parents coming here" he mutters, shaking his head.

Last night had been… all kinds of crazy.

"Yes, that seems like something you two should talk about" John says, and he looks as if he wants to say more and doesn't know how, "I want you to know I'm okay with this, Stiles. I'm really okay with it. But the way you seem to be behaving, last night and now… Just… His parents sounded really serious about this – hell, he _talked_ to his parents and asked them to come here to talk to us. He's serious about this, and if you don't think you want that, you shouldn't lead him on" he finishes his speech looking as uncomfortable as Stiles feels, and the boy wants to _laugh_.

Lead him on?

_Lead him on_?

Seriously?

He snorts, and shakes his head, with a small smile on his lips.

"I'm not leading him on, dad. He knows where I stand in this thing. And we're… well, we're serious, I just didn't think we'd be bringing the parents into the mix this soon." It's half a lie, but it's closer to any other thing he might have said as "so he's a werewolf and I'm his because he bit me" isn't on the menu for today.

They finish breakfast and Stiles goes up to his room, while his dad leaves for work. It's nothing uncommon, John taking up two shifts, back to back, just time enough between them for him to sleep a bit.

It had been this way ever since his mom had died. John was an amazing Sheriff, and that meant he had to work a lot, and Stiles was fine with it most of the time. However, he couldn't help thinking that sometimes – just sometimes – he wished his dad was around more. Like when he was completely afraid of the relationship he seemed to be into, and he needed to just… feel him around. Have his dad near.

It was childish and stupid, but he missed that feeling of being safe when his dad was around.

He couldn't quite remember when was the last time he felt like that – and things didn't seem to be looking up any time soon.

He boots up his computer and hears his dad getting ready for work. About fifteen minutes later, when Stiles is already engrossed in some game, his dad tells him he's leaving.

"If you do go out, just let me know, okay?"

"Yeah, I will. Bye, dad!" he answers, without looking away from the screen, and John goes to work.

Not even ten minutes after his dad leaves, the doorbell rings and Stiles frowns, getting up – he's not expecting anyone.

When he gets to the door he has to contain a sigh: Jackson is on the other side, looking arrogant and irritating, and also hopeful.

"Where's your chaperone, Jackson?" Stiles says as a greeting, and Jackson rolls his eyes, getting into the house without being invited.

"Peter said Derek was letting me out. I'm not dangerous anymore. I just have to be there for the full moon and everything will be fine" he answers, looking at Stiles expectantly.

What is he supposed to do?

"Uhm… Okay. Do you want to… have something to drink?" he asks, because he doesn't know how to _deal_ with this. There's this guy who is gorgeous but also an awful person, and he's stuck with him _forever_.

"No, thanks. I came here because we need to talk" Jackson says fast, as if he's trying not to lose his nerve.

Or his temper.

He doesn't seem to have much of any of them.

"Okay" Stiles agrees, "Let's go to my room, then." He gestures to the stairs, and Jackson goes in front of him.

When they get there, Stiles looks at his unmade bed and the notebook still frozen on the screen of his game. It's all messy, and he looks at Jackson for a second, expecting judgment, but the other boy doesn't say anything, just stares at him as he gets into the room and sits on his desk chair.

"I think we really should talk, anyway" he starts, because Jackson looks a bit frozen, as if he doesn't know what to do, staring at the bed and then at Stiles, "I mean, your parents came here last night, dude. And then _you_ came here last night, and that was so not okay I can't even begin to tell you, Jackson" he says, running his hands through his barely-there hair.

"Why? Did you have plans for anyone else last night?" Jackson says, and Stiles looks at him with a bit of fear – but his eyes aren't turning blue, and he doesn't look as if he's going to wolf out. He's making a joke.

Stiles can't decide what's more upsetting.

"No…" he answers slowly, "It's just… look, none of us wanted this, okay? But we have to make this work, because I don't want you to kill me. But you have to… you have to talk to me, Jackson, because I'm lost. Your parents? Really?" he says again, and Jackson sits on the bed, looking down for a bit.

"Look, I asked them to come here and talk to your dad about the whole restraining order thing. You were the one who pointed that out to me, by the way. It's a respectful and clean way to make a good first impression on your dad, and that can only help, because he is the Sheriff, okay? Was it that bad?" he asks, looking frustrated, and Stiles snorts.

"You bet it was bad, because my dad was still firmly in the belief that I was crazy about _your ex-girlfriend_. And then they show up here telling him I'm in a serious relationship with you. My dad was freaking out! This morning he told me not to lead you on, because you were taking this way more seriously than I appeared to" he finishes, and it's Jackson's turn to snort.

"I _am_ taking this way more seriously than you, because I have to. You don't."

"Because I could just tell you _no_ and keep living my life?" Stiles asks, disbelieving, and there comes the blue eyes and the fangs again.

But Jackson breaths in deeply, and reigns himself in.

"No, you can't. I would… I would probably go feral again. That's… that's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually" he says awkwardly, and Stiles waits, because the boy seems to be gathering courage for something, "When I… Last night, you reeked of fear. Yesterday afternoon, you smelled like rejection. You're saying you're doing this, but you're not, you're afraid of me" Jackson says as if it's an accusation, and Stiles stares at him, eyebrow raised.

"That's because I _am_ afraid of you. I have ADHD, Jackson. I also have a history of suffering from panic attacks. The day you almost died, Gerard kidnaped me and beat me so bad my dad was going out of his mind. You poisoned me twice and kept me in a pool with Derek for two hours, and I know it wasn't your fault, but you did it, and then you come into my room, you drag me to bed, and then you make it impossible for me to _move_. You don't get what's wrong with that? Why I would be afraid? Seriously?" he hadn't meant to say so much, especially about Gerard, but he _needed_ Jackson to see where he was coming from.

Why this was going to be way more complicated than they both thought.

Jackson takes a deep breath and leans forward, his elbows on his knees as he stares at Stiles in the eye.

"I'm sorry" he sounds earnest and Stiles feels obligated to nod, "I didn't know any of that, but I knew there must be a reason. But the thing is, Stiles, that the more you fear me, and the more you reject me, the worse this whole control thing goes. It's not like I can turn myself off, you know? You're _mine_. And I do realize how wrong this sounds, and how so very primal I behave, but you keep insisting on keeping me away, and I can't take it, so I react, and now that I'm not even human anymore, when I react bad things happen, like the fangs and the eyes and the extra hair. I don't like doing it, but you…"

"If you say I make you do it I'm going to file a complaint about you as an abusive partner, Jackson, I swear to God" he says it with a small laugh, but he's not really kidding.

"It's just… hard. Every time you deny what we have I feel like I have to remind you, and that's keeping you as close as possible. And possibly losing it a bit in the process because…" he stops talking and lets out a big rush of air, as if it's painful for him to admit it, "I want you. I want all of you, and please don't take offense, but it's infuriating. I wasn't attracted to guys before, Stiles, and now all I can think about is you, and your mouth, and fucking you. And you deny me, and I get that, because we barely know each other, but it's _hard_ not to throw you into bed and have my way with you, especially knowing you can't fight me. You can't stop me. I could do it – but I'm not, you see? I am trying."

He looks as if he actually _believes_ that not raping Stiles is _trying_.

Stiles doesn't even know how to answer to that.

He runs his hands over his face instead of answering for a moment.

"Look, I get that it must be hard for you, but you saying that you basically want to rape me? That's not helping, Jackson."

"I'm trying to be honest with you."

"Well, be a little less honest, okay?"

Jackson makes an exasperated sound, getting up.

"You're impossible!"

Stiles wants to answer, but he doesn't. Seriously, what should he say? What could he say?

There's no getting out of this, there's no making this right, so what? Is he going to spend the rest of his life avoiding the guy who wants to bang him? How is he to even begin to deal with this shit?

"Look," Jackson starts, once he stops pacing and stands in front of Stiles, looking down at him, just a few steps away, "all I'm saying is… we can make this work, okay? I'm willing to try and stop being so… forceful around you, but the more you fight me, the more savage I'll get, so could you, please, just… work with me?"

Well, he said please. Stiles had never heard a please from Jackson before.

"What do you want me to do?"

Jackson smirks at him, as if he's going to give him the dirtiest answer of all times, but then he just shakes his head.

"Don't push me away, and trust me not to eat you when I get near you" he says quietly, and Stiles takes a deep breath, nodding.

"I can do that" he answers. Jackson then takes one of his hands and pulls him up gently, Stiles' heart starts racing like mad with the gesture, reminding him of last night.

"Also… can we…" Jackson starts saying quietly, just a whisper, his eyes looking at Stiles' mouth, his hand letting go of Stiles' and coming around his waist, pulling him closer? "Can we act like a couple? I want to…" he doesn't say what he wants to do, he kisses Stiles instead, and now it's clear that all the nagging about his dad eating healthily would have to be applied to him too, because his heart is trying to beat its way out of his chest.

Jackson's lips are firm against him, he is demanding and domineering, and a whole other plethora of things that Stiles isn't used to think of when he thinks of kissing. He's imagined this a thousand times before – kissing someone like this, but it was usually him doing the possessing, the invading the mouth thing, the pressing closer, the taking the initiative.

He closes his eyes slowly, and tries to respond the kiss. His lips move against Jackson's and the other teen moans quietly taking a few steps forward, making Stiles back press against a wall. Stiles fights not to open his eyes, and slowly he brings his hands to Jackson's neck, running his fingers through the other boy's hair.

Jackson hums in contentment and the kiss goes soft, careful, a caress instead of the pressing of lips of yesterday, or the desperation of the beginning of this kiss.

He pulls away and Jackson opens his eyes a bit angrily, and then Stiles moves forward and pecks him on the lips again, moving away slowly, and this seems to calm Jackson down.

"This okay, then?" Stiles asks, his voice soft. He doesn't move his arms, or tries to get away – he stays, feeling Jackson's hands on his waist and caressing his neck.

"Yeah… this is good" the blond answers, kissing his neck softly.

They stay like that for a few moments, and then Jackson looks at him, smirking a bit.

"I thought we could go out for a bit? To a movie or something?"

Stiles nods.

"Okay. I just… I have to change, and tidy up this room. Pick me up in a bit?" he asks, and Jackson nods, kissing him softly again, before moving away.

"I'm going home for a bit, be ready in an hour, ok?" he asks, already going to the door.

"Okay" Stiles answers, and Jackson looks at him, and Stiles smiles.

The blond looks reassured and leaves.

When the sound of his car disappears down the street, Stiles starts taking in big gulps of air, going to the bathroom, taking his clothes off.

He turns on the shower and steps in – tears are running down his face and he can't _breathe in_. The air just doesn't come. He scrubs roughly against his neck, and his mouth. He feels _dirty_, violated, thinking about the kiss, and the way Jackson pressed him against the door, and him kissing back, trying not to think about it, carefully regulating his breathing, knowing that panicking and pushing him away would only make things worse.

After a good ten minutes, his breathing starts to go back to normal. He turns off the shower, and puts on some jeans and a shirt he doesn't even look at.

When Jackson comes to pick him up exactly one hour after he left, Stiles greets him with a smile, and barely tenses up when the werewolf kisses him in greeting, before taking off in his Porsche.

This is his mate.

He'll have to make this work.

* * *

**This so wasn't my plan for this chapter. It got away from me.**

**Sorry about the delay, guys! But too much work these past three days, so I couldn't write. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, though!**

**Let me know what you think!**


	6. even when they tell you not to

**First of all, I'm going to give a generic response to a review I got last chapter: I have in the warnings of this story that there'll be an "abusive relationship" and also an "abusive partner". Someone mentioned they wouldn't like to see Stiles getting beat up by Jackson, and let me assure you, that WON'T happen (I think) – however, you all have to think of the fact that abuse doesn't always mean a physical threat: controlling your partner, behaving possessively in a way that damages your partner's relationship with other people, being over jealous, using emotional blackmail to get something, forcing someone to do something they don't really feel comfortable doing by means that are not physically violent, demeaning someone: those are all forms of abuse, and behaviors of an abusive partner.**

**Abuse doesn't always equal physical violence, it's bigger than that, and just as serious.**

**Second, I've read ****_"on Fire_****" on Saturday, and boy, was I happy to see some background in that, what an amazing source of information. So, I'm going to be using some of that background here, mostly on Scott's PoV.**

**Also, I'm REALLY sorry it took me this long to update, but these past two weeks have been crazy!**

**Now, enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

**Keep Walking**

**even when they tell you not to**

Scott's father was abusive.

It's not something he or his mother ever talked about, they don't even mention those strange years, when his dad had stopped working, and then had to pick one job a month, never lasting anywhere, trying to get Melissa to give him money all the time, resenting Scott for needing an inhaler for his asthma, resenting his mom for not having enough money to spend with stupid things that she wouldn't even know about, because he never told her what he wanted the money for.

One day, he just up and left. He was eleven then – he and his mom waited for weeks for him to come back, and when he did, Melissa told him not to return, ever. He tried to hit her, then, Scott can remember it as clearly as if it had happened yesterday, but Melissa didn't really let him – he was drunk, and she was pissed off, and tired of whatever they were doing. She got a restraining order, he left, never to be seen again, and then it was just Scott and his mom.

She cried a lot those days, she used to feel guilty about his dad leaving, about the way he used to behave, and Scott spent years not knowing how to act around her when she got that sad – it wasn't her fault his dad was such a jerk. When his mom managed to get a better placement in the hospital, they moved houses, and he started going to another school. He was thirteen then, and he met Stiles – weird, confusing Stiles, who wouldn't stop talking, and didn't have a mom, just like he didn't have a dad, and neither of them had friends, so it was as close as a match made in heaven as they wanted to have at that time.

But the point is that Scott knows werewolves – hell, he _is_ a werewolf. He also knows Jackson, because he's suffered through Jackson's jerk attitude towards him and Stiles just as much as Stiles has, and it wasn't fun.

Maybe for Jackson, but not for them.

The thing is, though, that he is smart enough to understand how very, very bad things can get, because Stiles is stubborn, and he doesn't know when to really quit. And Jackson is a jerk, he's possessive enough that he doesn't lend his _pens_ to his _best friend_, and being that Stiles is his mate – things can get ugly.

Apart from the fact that he _knows_ Allison is not his mate, and that being in Derek's pack will be the only way he'll be able to ever be with his mate – if they want him, anyway, which he's not very sure, because, well… he was really hung up on Allison when they showed up, and things are just completely awkward now – he actually joined that pack, submitting to an Alpha he doesn't even like, let alone respect, because he needs to help Stiles.

He doesn't want Stiles to end up like his mom – he knows his mom doesn't trust _anyone_. His mom barely even trusts him. The only difference is that Stiles would never be able to tell Jackson to leave, he'd never be able to try and date again, because Jackson would kill anyone who got too close to Stiles, and Scott is worried – shit, he's worried _sick_ about this.

He wants Stiles to be safe. He needs to help.

That's why he is now in Derek's pack.

Which means he's waiting in front of that shell of a house, on a Saturday afternoon for Derek to come out and tell him what to do, because he got a message saying he should be here, so he is here. He's not going to screw this up and throw away the only chance he has at helping his best friend be happy.

No one needs to tell him how much of a bad friend he's being with this Allison business, he knows. He also knows these past months were even worse, because once he realized she _isn't_ his mate, he decided to hold on to her as tightly as he could, and that put Stiles on the background of his life, but not anymore.

"Hey" Scott jumps a little, because he truly hadn't heard anyone coming, and when he turns, Isaac is there, smiling at him, "What are you doing here?" he asks, and Scott shrugs.

"Derek told me to come, that there was a pack meeting."

Isaac frowns, sitting beside him on the porch.

"Derek's not here, neither is Peter – they left about an hour ago, I don't know where they went." His voice is a bit confused, and Scott sighs, but doesn't get up.

"I'll wait. He told me to be here, I'll be here" he knows he sounds as stubborn as a small kid, but he doesn't care.

Even if this is some sort of stupid test on Derek's part, he'll be here.

"Peter told me last night that you had come and begged to be a part of Derek's pack" Isaac starts, his voice unsure, "He didn't tell me why though."

Scott swallows at the hopeful tone Isaac's voice has taken.

"Stiles" he says simply, looking straight ahead, "I have to help him. I've been a shitty friend, and I need to help him."

"You're a good friend, Scott. You just… had a lot on your mind" Isaac defends him, and Scott smiles a bit.

"Thanks. But I'm here for… him. You know. Jackson is such a jerk, I'm afraid they'll end up killing each other."

Isaac looks as if he's trying to decide if Scott is trying to be funny or not, but doesn't answer the boy's comment.

"Do you want company, while you wait?" he asks instead, and Scott looks at him, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah, I'd like that" he says, smiling a bit, and Isaac smiles back – wide and open and beautiful, just like that day at the clinic, when he found out he could take someone's pain away, and sits down beside him, in silence.

They don't even notice the time passing, as they wait.

It's like things are right in the world because they are side by side.

**X**

Stiles's never been to the movies on a date before. Sure he's tried, but girls tend to react badly when you ask them out when all of them _know_ you're pining for someone else, and every single person inside Beacon Hills High knows he has carried a torch for Lydia ever since… well, forever.

So he's feeling a bit awkward as they come out of Jackson's Porsche, with Jackson putting an arm around his waist as soon as he's in close enough.

"You're so handsy" he comments, and Jackson looks at him, as if he's trying to decide if Stiles is making a joke or a complaint, "I'm joking" he explains while they walk to the theatre, where there's a line already, "It's a thing I do when I'm nervous, I joke a lot. You might have noticed since we know each other since kindergarten" he points out, feeling a little bit of satisfaction at the way he has managed to make Jackson realize that they have known each other for _years_, and yet he doesn't _know_ Stiles.

Jackson might not care, but his wolf sure does.

"I know" the other boy bites out and Stiles smiles a bit.

He's sure Jackson will say something else but then someone calls Jackson's name.

"Hey, Jackson!" they say again, and when they turn around there's Danny with another boy in the line for the movie they plan on watching. They walk over to them, and Danny smiles confusedly at the two, arching an eyebrow at Jackson's arm, "Hey, man. I tried getting a hold of you for _days_, and your parents said you weren't up to visits yet" he says accusingly, and Jackson flashes him a small smile.

"I wasn't. I got out yesterday, and then I ended up with Stiles most of the time" he explains, pulling Stiles even closer, and frowning at Danny's date.

"I can see that" Danny says, still confused, "This is Jack" he ends up saying, giving up on Jackson for the moment, apparently, "These are Jackson and Stiles, they go to school with me. Also, when he's not pulling a disappearing act, Jackson is my best friend" he tells the boy with a smile, and Stiles tries to shake the hand that it's being offered, but Jackson takes it first, and the teen has the distinct impression Jackson is trying to break the guy's hand _and_ set him on fire with a look at the same time.

"Pleasure" Jackson says with a dangerous smile, and Stiles starts to get nervous, putting both his hands on Jackson's shoulders. He can feel the boy calming down a bit.

"Hey, we need to get our tickets. And some popcorn? What is a movie without popcorn, right?" he says fast, and Jackson turns his attention to him again.

"Wait here, I'll get them." It sounds like an order, and everything in Stiles screams at him to answer to that, but he doesn't. He doesn't want to fight. Again.

"Okay" he says with a smile, and then Jackson grabs him by the waist, and kisses him straight on the mouth, before turning around and leaving.

He can feel Danny and his date staring at him curiously, and he looks down, putting his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

"Possessive much?" Jack says, his tone light and teasing, and Stiles looks at him, smiling a bit, even if it's a little strained.

"Yeah, it's recent. God knows why, though, it's not like there's a line to date me or anything" he says back, and Jack laughs it off, taking it as humor, but Danny knows better, and he keeps on looking at Stiles.

Because he _knows_ Stiles has been hung up on Lydia since they were little kids. He _knows_ Stiles honestly dislikes Jackson. He _knows_ Jackson can't stand Stiles at all.

His stare feels like a big _what the hell_, and when their eyes meet, Stiles just sighs and shrugs. He has a best friend he'll have to keep calm and happy, keeping Danny calm and happy is Jackson's job, not his.

"I'll go help Jackson" Danny suddenly announces, and disappears on the crowd of people around them, leaving Stiles and Jack alone.

Oh, man, Jackson is going to freak.

**X**

Of all the weird things Jackson's done this past year, this takes the trophy _hands down_.

Stilinski and Jackson? _Stilinski_ and Jackson? Sure, the boy is a bit cute, if you discounted his ability to talk nonstop, and his obvious crush on Lydia, but _Jackson_ and Stilinski? This is even _more_ unlikely than _Lydia_ and Stilinski, which was already way off the charts weird.

His friend has been distant lately, acting crazy, and then with all that speech about _stay away from me_. And then he's dead, and then he's not, and his parents are saying he's in intensive care, but he's not at the hospital because Danny checked, and then he's _at the movies with Stilinski_?

What the hell?

"Stiles, Jackson? When did _that_ happen?" he asks as soon as the other boy is near enough, buying popcorn and sodas and candy. With two tickets in his hands.

Just like he used to do with _Lydia_.

"Yes" the other teen answers curtly and without looking at him.

"Jackson…" he starts, but his friend turns to look at him and shakes his head.

"Don't, okay? I…" he swallows hard, looking down before meeting his eyes, finally, "I realized I've always got this… thing. For him. That's why I was such a jerk to him all the time. He's giving me a chance – more like, I _made_ him give me a chance, and I'm not screwing this up, ok? He's mine. Now drop it" he says, as if _that_'s something Danny can believe, but he does let it go.

When they walk back to their dates, they see a tall guy passing behind the boys – the guy bumps into Jack and he stumbles, putting a hand on Stiles's shoulder to keep his balance.

And Danny swears to God he can hear Jackson _growl_.

The blond walks faster and Stiles seems to sense his approach because he turns and looks at them with wide eyes, letting go of Jack and taking a step near Jackson.

"_Hands off_" Jackson hisses, and he looks ready to murder Jack.

For _stumbling_.

"Jackson, hey, it's fine. It's okay. Look at me" Stiles is saying, and Danny can't tear his eyes away, it's like watching a train wreck. Jackson does look at Stiles, but he's still angry, and he's _sure_ Stiles's hands are trembling, "I'm fine. He just stumbled because some ass was all over him, alright?" his babble doesn't seem to calm Jackson down, though, and Stiles is getting even more nervous.

And then he puts a hand on the back of Jackson's neck and pulls him close and kisses him.

And just like that Jackson's shoulders are less tense, and he stops tightening his jaw.

When Stiles pulls away and makes to step back, Jackson looks at him and the boy smiles tentatively at him, but stays as close as he can. Jackson gives him the popcorn, and one of the sodas, and then, having one of his arms free, he pulls Stiles to his side.

"Sorry" he mutters to Jack, but he doesn't look sorry at all.

And staring at Stiles, Danny can swear he looks _terrified_.

What the hell?

**X**

The movie goes as well as can be expected, what with Jackson almost wolfing out and eating Danny's date. The blond puts his arm around Stiles's shoulder during the movie, and they eat popcorn from the same bucket, and when Stiles drinks all of his soda, Jackson offers him his.

It's… not bad.

He can get used to it, he totally and completely can.

They say goodbye to the other boys at the door, and Danny is still staring at them weirdly, but Stiles tries to ignore it. He has to.

"You hungry?" Jackson asks, and Stiles hums a bit before answering.

He is. He totally is hungry. And if he says yes, they'll go out and eat and he'll have to spend more time with Jackson. However, spending time with Jackson is what he _should_ be doing, and spending time with Jackson in public is easy enough.

"Yeah" he says, and Jackson smiles a bit – it's not quite a smirk, but it's almost there.

Stiles notices why when they don't drive to a restaurant, but to Jackson's house.

"We're going to your place?" he says, his voice a bit panicky, and Jackson laughs.

"Yeah, but don't worry. My parents aren't here. They are out at some function, ok? It's just us."

Oh, yeah, because _that_ will make him calm down.

Jackson's house is… ridiculous, that's what it is. It's like something out of a movie, and, boy, he knew the blond had money, but this is _overwhelming_. This makes Lydia's place look like a normal house, and his look like a servant's quarters. Jackson is smirking proudly at his gob smacked look while he orders pizza.

"It should be here in twenty minutes" he announces, putting the phone down, and turning on some music.

Some romantic, bad music, with which he totally used to make out with Lydia, because his moves are so _practiced_ at this, the way he's moving through the living room, stepping close to Stiles and walking slowly towards the couch, turning Stiles just so that he is walking backwards to it.

Jackson closes the distance between them and kisses him deeply, caressing his neck slowly while his other hand is on his waist. Stiles kisses him back, nervous and unsure, not knowing what to do with his hands all of a sudden, because, unlike Jackson, he doesn't have the moves, he hasn't done this a thousand times before.

The blond pulls away and pushes Stiles down until he's lying on his back on the couch, and Jackson cover his body with his, kissing him again, more daringly, hotter and more desperate. One of his hands finds its way under Stiles shirt, and he starts caressing the skin on Stiles hip.

"Jackson… wait" Stiles manages to say, but the blond doesn't so much _stops_ as he changes focus, his hands coming from _under_ his clothing, at least, but his mouth goes to Stiles's neck, and he sucks on it, sure to leave a mark.

That'll be _great_ to explain to everybody, especially his dad.

Jackson keeps kissing him, and he does his best to respond, but the blond doesn't really seem to need much encouragement – it's like as long as Stiles doesn't say _no_ he'll just keep trying.

It's… easy, in a way. Taking the pressure off of him, because Stiles has no idea what he's doing, even if his body sure is enjoying the attention.

Suddenly there's a buzzing sound, and Jackson groans in protest but gets up – the pizza has arrived.

While the blond goes to take the food, Stiles tries to calm down. He sits up and runs his hands over his hair, taking in deep breaths.

What is he _doing_?

Jackson suddenly comes back with the pizza, two plates, sodas and napkins, all completely balanced in his arms. Being a werewolf sure has advantages.

"You know, I think the best part of all this mess is that I can eat normal food, and not have to watch The Notebook ever again" Jackson says as he sits on the floor, putting everything on the coffee table. Stiles smiles at him and moves form the couch to the floor, looking at Jackson with wide eyes.

"But that's my _favorite_ movie!"

Jackson stares at him for about two seconds, looking completely _scared_, until his eyes narrow, and he throws a napkin at Stiles's head.

"I can tell you're lying" he says, and Stiles smiles even more.

"You believed me for a while, though. You totally did."

Jackson doesn't answer, he just snorts and picks a piece of pizza, puts it on a plate and hands it to Stiles – who thinks about pointing out he's not a girl, he can get his own piece, but then again, so can girls, and if Jackson is trying to be _nice_, then let him.

They eat in silence for a while, and then Jackson stares at him for a while, chewing thoughtfully, before running one of his hands over Stiles's hair.

"You should let your hair grow out a bit" he comments, and Stiles startles, because what?

"What?" he says, his mouth half full.

"Your hair would work better if it was longer. You have a beautiful face, but this cut doesn't suit you all that well. I get that it's practical, but you would look nicer with your hair longer" the blond offers with a shrug and continues eating.

"I'm not sure if you just complimented me or insulted me" Stiles says when he swallows, and Jackson laughs a bit.

"I called your face beautiful, that's a compliment."

"Well… you have a beautiful face too" Stiles says, and Jackson smirks at him.

"I have a beautiful everything" the blond answers, still smirking, and Stiles picks up a piece of crust and throws at him, making Jackson squeak indignantly and jump at him.

They end up in a heap on the floor, Jackson pinning Stiles down, and leaning down to kiss him, Stiles's heart going a mile a minute, and his eyes are wide.

"Why are you scared?" Jackson asks suddenly, and he looks hurt.

"I… It's not you" Stiles ends up babbling, and Jackson stares at him as if he's crazy.

"I touched you, and you got scared. It sure is me."

"No, it's… I… I've never done this before. You know me, Jackson. Do you remember me ever going on a date? Kissing anyone at any party that I got invited to? Actually, can you remember me _being_ invited to parties at _all_? Even after Scott got popular, I was the sidekick. I'm nervous, because I… I don't know what I'm doing" he confesses, and Jackson lets him up, sitting back.

Stiles follows his lead and sits too, staring at his plate.

"I haven't thought about that" Jackson says after a minute.

"I know" he answers, and hears the other boy sigh.

"It's just… it comes naturally. Wanting you, making things to have you. Even tonight, except for that jerk, it's easy. But I get what you're saying."

"He's not a jerk, the guy pushed him, Jackson" he says exasperatedly, and Jackson stares at him incredulously.

"Okay, so he wasn't eyeing you like he wanted to eat you" he points out, and Stiles honestly laugh.

"Right. He was on a date with _Danny_. Anyone who can have Danny won't look at me like that."

"How can you be so oblivious?" Jackson asks with a hint of wonder in his voice, as if he can't believe someone like Stiles actually exists, "Also, I could totally have Danny, and I'm looking at you like that" he points out, smirking again, but Stiles's smile is bitter.

"But you didn't choose me, Jackson, your crazy wolf did. I'm not your first choice."

Jackson swallows hard before answering, taking Stiles's hand into his.

"But that choice is forever. Isn't that good? Knowing I won't leave you, no matter what? That I'll always be here, and that I _want_ to make you happy? Isn't it enough to know that… well, most people our age are dreaming of forever and we have it?"

His voice is soft and persuasive, and Stiles breathes deeply before answering.

"We're sixteen, Jackson. We're not supposed to have forever yet."

They stare into each other's eyes for a moment, and they seem to finally, _finally_ understand the other in a way they hadn't before.

"I'm not saying I don't want this. We can make this work, I know we can… but if we have forever, we don't have to rush it, right?" Stiles says, almost in a whisper, raising a hand slowly, and touching Jackson's cheek softly.

"Yeah… you're right" Jackson says simply. He gets up and offers Stiles a hand, "I'll take you home."

Stiles smiles at him broadly, and kisses him again, quick and chaste, but it is a kiss, and it's the second time he actually initiated anything, so he thinks things are getting better.

When he gets home, his dad is already there, eating crappy food in front of the TV.

"Had a good time, kiddo?"

Stiles stops, and thinks for a moment, before smiling a bit.

"Yeah… yeah I did" he says, before going to his room.

He really did.

* * *

**Finally! **

**You know that song that goes "****_it's like one step forward and two steps baaack"_****? I don't know, this chapter made me think of it. They sure took one step forward.**

**Guess you guys know what's coming next.**

**Hehehehehehe.**

**Tell me what you think!**

**REVIEW!**


	7. unless you can't

**Keep Walking**

**unless you can't**

Of course all good feelings Stiles might be having about this weird relationship with Jackson come to an end the very next day.

Because this is not only _Stiles_'s life. It's Jackson's too. And together they seem to have the bad luck of at least half the world population.

Stiles spent the day with his dad – the Sheriff had the day off, and their lives had been hectic these past couple of weeks, so he wanted to spend some time with his son, and Stiles obliged. He even sent a text to Jackson telling him he'd be with his dad till three, and asked if he wanted to do anything later.

Jackson had called him back, demanding and needy, but Stiles was handling it. He truly was. So they arranged to meet at about three thirty – their night would be spent separated because it was, finally, the _full moon_. And Stiles didn't want to think about that, because that moment Peter had said something about Jackson's _wolf_ coming after him? That'd haunt him forever and a day. So, of course, he was just lazing about his room a little before three when his doorbell rang.

"Hey!" says Jackson, standing there with a huge smirk, pulling him for a kiss.

"Hey" Stiles answers with a little less enthusiasm, "I thought we weren't meeting for another half hour."

"Oh, I saw your dad leaving about ten minutes ago, so I thought I come by early" he answers, shrugging and getting in.

Okay, that wasn't creepy _at all_.

"How did you know my dad left?" he questions further while they walk slowly to his room, and he can practically feel Jackson rolling his eyes.

"I was nearby and saw it, ok?"

"You're lying."

"You can't tell when I'm lying, you're not a werewolf" Jackson remarks, sitting on his bed, and trying to get Stiles on his lap, but the other teen takes a few steps away from him.

"I can tell you're lying because you're the worst liar ever. I do not need to be a werewolf to do that, ok?" Stiles replies, getting angry, "Were you watching my house?"

Jackson looks down, not in shame, but clearly trying to reign in his temper, taking deep breaths, and Stiles tries to control his fear.

It's a bit hard for him to always keep in mind that an angry Jackson now means a _dangerous_ Jackson. Which brings up another whole can of worms, because he's absolutely _sure_ Jackson would never harm him physically. He wouldn't hit Stiles, rip him to pieces or tear his throat out with his teeth or anything.

What _would_ he do, though?

He doesn't want to find out first hand, but he does want to know.

"I was nervous and anxious because I didn't know where you were" comes as a reply after a good three minute wait, "You told me you'd hang out with your dad, and I had no idea if you'd go out, or stay in, or maybe get out of town, and…" he stops talking, but the ending is clear.

Get out of town _and leave Jackson behind_.

"I'm not leaving you, Jackson" he answers without thinking much about how that sounds, because thinking these things through is very, very bad, "I thought we were making progress yesterday. I'm not running on you, I just watched bad TV and we ate junk food, which he'll pay with veggie feedings all week, and we talked a bit about things. School, mostly. That's it. I didn't even get out of the house."

This felt so… wrong. So invasive. Why? Why should he explain himself to Jackson, and yet he was doing it? Why? What right did Jackson have to look so relieved hearing him talk, looking at peace, a tenseness around him that Stiles hadn't even noticed before suddenly disappearing as if by magic when he listened to Stiles speak.

He shouldn't have to explain his day with his _dad_ to Jackson, and yet here he was.

This was _all kinds_ of stupid and screwed up.

And it's when he looks ready to get on a tirade about how _wrong_ this all is that Jackson smiles – truly _smiles_, open and unbroken and _beautiful_ – and pulls him by the hand again, gently this time, to sit by his side on the bed.

"Thanks" he says softly, "I know how crazy all of this is, but it helps that you… let me in, I guess." He shrugs when he finishes speaking, and Stiles feels his heart break a bit.

This is so… he doesn't even have words.

"Just…" he can't think of anything to say, so he sighs and shakes his head, "It'll get better, right? When your wolfish instincts or whatever are sure I'm not leaving you, or going away, when you feel we're safe, it'll get better" he says, to reassure Jackson just as much as himself, and Jackson's smile wavers.

"Yeah, it will" he answers, but he doesn't seem convinced.

Stiles swallows hard and has no idea about how to dissipate the awkwardness in the room.

"So… what do you want to do for the day?" he asks instead, with forced cheerfulness and he sees Jackson almost scoff at him, but he doesn't comment on it.

"We're going to Derek's. It's the full moon and he wants the whole pack there early for some reason. There's a surprise for you there." The smirk is back, and Stiles curiosity is picked.

"What surprise?" he looks at Jackson and shakes his finger at him, "And don't tell me that if you tell me it's not a surprise, I know that, that's why I'm asking."

"It's good, I promise. You'll love it" Jackson really does try to sound reassuring but he's not doing a very good job with it, "Let's go, okay? The sooner we get there, the sooner you'll find out" he says getting up, and pulling Stiles to his feet, pulling him downstairs again.

"How are we doing this? I'll follow you there?" he inquires, and Jackson stares at him as if he's crazy.

"What do you mean? I've got the Porsche."

"Yeah, but you're staying there, and I'm sure as hell not spending the night. My dad might actually put one of his deputies tailing me night and day if I do that, and he's spending the night home tonight."

"Derek told me you shouldn't stay anyway, because we don't know how good my control will be. But I thought we'd just take the Porsche; you drive it back here and pick me up tomorrow morning?"

Stiles stares at Jackson open mouthed for a moment, because Jackson is leaving _his Porsche_ with him for the night?

"What if it gets stolen?!" he asks in a squeak, flailing his hands about, and Jackson snorts, pulling Stiles against him and holding him by the waist.

"Your _dad_ is the _Sheriff_, Stiles. Who'd steal something from his driveway, are you serious?" Jackson replies, before leaning in for a kiss, pushing Stiles against the wall.

It's a _real_ kiss this time, Jackson's tongue in his mouth, searching, marking – a small bite on his lower lip which makes him groan, a bit in pain, a lot in appreciation. The hands around his waist tighten again, and one of Jackson's knees get in between his legs, and he's lost in the kiss, because _gods_, Jackson is good at this.

Finally, the blond lets go of his mouth, and moves to his neck, biting and sucking on it, as if to leave a mark – _as if_ no, he _is_ leaving a mark, and Stiles wants to shake his head and complain, but he can't quite find his voice, because it's just _so good_, he wants to bite Jackson too, just a tiny bit…

And when he's getting ready to attack the blonde's neck, the door opens and in comes his dad.

When the Sheriff clears his throat they both pull apart so fast the man smirks at them and the raises an eyebrow at Stiles, who is blushing like _mad_.

So, so many things are wrong with the picture of his dad catching him necking away with Jackson against his living room wall.

"Hey, dad! So we were just leaving, be back later, love you, bye!" he says in a rush, pulling Jackson by the hand towards the door. The other boy is a bit pale, but he's trying to contain a smirk, Stiles just _knows_ it. He nods at Stiles's dad as they pass him.

"I want you home by ten, Stiles!" he hears his father scream, and Stiles waves at him, without turning around, to let him know he's heard.

"Oh my God" Stiles says once they are safely inside the car, burying his head in his hands, "I think I might just die of embarrassment."

"It wasn't _that_ bad" Jackson replies, waiting for Stiles to put on the seatbelt to start driving.

Stiles looks at him from behind his hands.

"Are you _kidding me_? My dad caught us kissing, and, oh God, he'll never let me live this down" he finishes miserably, and Jackson laughs – truly and openly laughs, kissing him on the cheek and finally pulls away from his house.

"Don't worry about it, he'll get over it" Jackson replies and Stiles just groans, burning with embarrassment.

They get to Derek's in record time, because better reflexes make for a Jackson that does not care about traffic laws, and when he gets out of the car, just a bit less embarrassed than before, he's surprised to see Scott sitting on the grass outside the house.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asks before he can stop himself and Scott smiles at him, all dopey and cute like a puppy.

"I'm pack now!" his best friend replies, smiling away like it's Christmas.

"What? But what about…" then Stiles stops and _looks_ at Scott, and oh my God.

Allison was not Scott's mate.

He starts hitting the werewolf on the head, and Jackson laughs heartily behind him, even if the laugh is a bit mean.

"Ow, OW, what the hell is this for? I become part of the pack because of you, and you hit me?" Scott says indignantly getting away from Stiles, but the boy glares at him.

"What the hell, dude! You let me think Allison was your _mate_. We didn't even… I can't believe you!" He throws his hands up and shakes his head, and Scott looks down.

"Sorry, ok? It was just… I was… Oh, man" he finishes, as if he can't explain, and Stiles gets it.

He's known Scott for _years_. He gets it.

"You're a moron" he ends up saying, giving him a pat on the back, and Scott's smile is back full force.

"Yeah?" he asks, and Stiles shakes his head, fondly this time.

"Yeah" he confirms.

When they look around is to see Derek, Isaac and Peter looking at the two of them as if they're crazy, because that wasn't a conversation – but they got each other, and it was cool.

That's how they work, anyway.

Jackson, apparently, has had enough of being ignored and goes to Stiles's side, pulling the boy against him, arm around his waist, and Stiles is starting to think that Jackson is oddly fond of this position. He looks at the other wolves, and feels a bit awkward, but, well, he'll deal.

He has to.

This is his life now, right?

"Soooooo, what are the plans for tonight? You guys going hunting for squirrels? Am I going to wake up to find a dead deer on my doorstep as a courting gift from Jackson?" he asks playfully, and his joke is met by several glares in varying degrees. He smiles at all of them while Scott laughs quietly, and Jackson shakes his head, looking upwards, as if he's questioning the heavens about their choice for his mate.

Ha. He deserves it for his lack of sympathy with his dad-situation.

"Let's get inside, we need to talk" Derek orders, looking broody and moody and gloomy, so everything is just the same on that front.

They follow their fearless leader into the house, and Stiles has to shake his head, because "house" is such a kind term for this place, but okay.

Derek has them all sit around a weird table that looks out of place in the blackened walls and floor – it's light wood, with six chairs around it, and clearly new. Stiles has to contain his amusement at the thought of Derek furniture-shopping, but he bites his lip and keeps it down. No need to anger Derek on the day of the full moon.

Once they are all seated, Derek, at the head of the table, of course, breathes in deeply and sits back, staring at all of them for a bit.

"I think you noticed Erica and Boyd are still missing" he begins, and Stiles starts to get worried – he thought they _ran away_.

Running away doesn't equal missing. Running away means they have _gone away_ on their own volition. This is not what it sounds like now, though.

"Didn't they run away?" Scott asks before Stiles has a chance to, "The night of the game, they ran away" he continues, as if they wouldn't remember that small fact – the day two Betas abandoned his Alpha.

Derek looks like he swallowed a whole lemon tree and all the dirt around it too.

"Yes. That's what they told me" the Alpha admits, as if the words are hurting him, "We went looking in the woods after that, though. We were looking for Gerard" he says, and Stiles shivers a bit.

Kanima? Fine. Crazy werewolves? He can deal.

But that old man gives him the creeps like nothing else. Jackson seems to feel his discomfort and puts an arm around him – Stiles looks at him, but the blonde is still staring at his Alpha.

"We found no trace of Argent, but we did find Erica's and Boyd's things. Their jackets and cellphones – things they clearly had when Gerard had them. We didn't find _them_, though, or any trace of where they could have gone."

The "something is very, very wrong with this situation" needn't be said.

"Are you going after them tonight, then?" Stiles asks, "It's the full moon, your senses will be at their best, and they'll be less under control, because they can't quite control themselves yet" he continues, and Derek nods briefly.

"I and Isaac will. Peter will stay here to take care of Jackson, and make sure he won't escape, though for a wolf with a marked mate it's easier to find an anchor, I don't think Jackson will be much trouble. Scott will be with you, in case Jackson does escape" Derek explains, and Stiles nods.

It's a good plan. A solid plan. Except for the part that he wouldn't trust the care of a dead goldfish to Peter, but hey, he isn't the Alpha here.

"You should just get bitten."

The statement comes so completely out of the blue that Stiles almost falls off his chair.

"What?" he asks, at the same time as Scott yells "NO!"

"What what? You should, Stiles!" Jackson argues, turning so he would stare at him, "This would be so much easier if you were a werewolf like the rest of us! Hell, this has been your pack before it was mine! You're smart and driven, you could help us all. You could be _better_."

"I don't want to be _better_, I want to be _human_" he says coldly, and he's ready for a fight.

There are few things that'll set him off like this, but this is something he won't let go.

"What good is it for you to still be human _now_? I'm your mate, you have _me_ and the pack, and you don't have to think of the future with anyone else. You should become one of us."

"He _is_ one of us" Peter says, staring at Jackson carefully – and is that anger Stiles is detecting on his blue eyes? On _Stiles's_ behalf? "If nothing else, he is pack through you, Jackson. But this is not what this is about. You don't think that much about anyone else to think about that right now. You're saying this because you know that if Stiles is bitten, he'll have the same instincts you have, and he won't fight you anymore. Instead of _trying_ to make him fall in love with you, you're taking the easy way out" the way Peter speaks makes it sound like an accusation.

Jackson sets his jaw tightly, and his claws are starting to show. Stiles isn't afraid, though, he's _pissed_.

"It's not the easy way out, it's the logical step to take. To even the ground."

"Even the ground? With a fifty-fifty chance that I'll _die_?" Stiles says, finally getting up. Jackson is standing not a second later and they stare at each other angrily, "Have you thought about that in your brilliant plan? That I may not _live_ after the bite? Hell, Derek's bitten four people and Peter has bitten two, and none of them are dead, do you _really_ think the odds will continue to hold like that? Chances are that _I_ am the one who's going to die!"

"You won't _die_!"

"Just because you say it, it doesn't make it _happen_, Jackson! Some things can't be demanded! And if I die, you die too, big guy. How about that? Are you sure you want to test this still?"

"You are not going to die!" Stiles ignores his stupid sentence, because he won't deign to call that an argument.

"And I _don't want to_, can you get that? I'm the only thing my dad has _left_. He knows nothing about this shit!"

"Then _tell _him!" Jackson shouts back, but Stiles ignores him again.

"I'm not becoming a werewolf because you don't want to work for something! It's not happening!"

Jackson makes a sound that it's a lot like a roar, taking a step forward, and just like that all the other wolves are standing too. The blonde glares, but doesn't move anymore.

"Then you won't be helping in this. You won't be involved in this _at all_, never! I won't have you taking risks when you're so fragile and weak."

"I AM NOT WEAK!" he shouts, and this time he's the one who takes a step towards Jackson, glaring all the time, "And you can't tell me what to do or what not to do, because you don't _own_ me. You're my mate, and I accept that, and we have to make this work, and we _will_. When you're acting like a _decent_ human being we actually get along, but I WON'T have you telling me what to do, Jackson! You don't have that right!"

"You could get hurt!" the blonde shouts at him.

"Then I'll heal! Not as fast as you, but I will. You said so yourself, I was a part of this way before you were, you don't get to make these decisions for me!"

"Why can't you just stay away then, if you don't want to be a wolf? Why can't you just do what I'm _telling you_ to do?!" Jackson's voice is not a shout, but it's a close thing.

"Because I'm not Anastasia Steele, Jackson! I don't have an inner goddess who gets giddy with a strong male ordering me around!"

"As a werewolf you'd be stronger! But you don't want that? Fine! Don't get bitten, but don't get in the middle of this mess, then! I'm saying this for your own good!"

"No, you're doing it because you're a control freak" Stiles points out, actually jabbing a finger at Jackson's chest, who in turn grabs his wrist and pulls him close, his eyes flashing electric blue for a moment.

"I'm trying to keep you _safe_. Why won't you just DO what you're TOLD?" he hisses fiercely, glaring, and Stiles glares and hisses right back.

"Because I'm not Bella Swan either. Stop acting as if I can't protect myself."

"YOU CAN'T!" Jackson finally says, letting go of Stiles.

"ENOUGH!" Derek shouts and both of them stop screaming.

Stiles is breathing hard, and he's so mad he can't see straight. Jackson is a bit cowered by his Alpha's shout, and is looking down, but the glare is still there.

How are they supposed to make this work? They don't have a chance.

"I'm not getting bitten. I'm not putting my dad through that. I'm not staying out of this either because I'm already _in_ this, whatever _this_ is. And now, I'm leaving" Stiles finally says, turning around.

"You don't even have a car here" Jackson points out, voice still angry.

"Then give me your keys or I'm walking" he hisses back and he's fully expecting Jackson to just tell him to walk all the way home, but the keys come flying in his direction. He lets them fall, picks them up, and leaves.

"He's always been my favorite" he hears Peter say when he's out of the house, and snorts, getting to the car and going home.

When he gets there, his dad is still out, and Stiles is _fuming_. Stupid, idiotic, controlling werewolf! It's not even the species, he's sure, it's just… _Jackson_.

He grabs his pillow and throws it against the wall, and then frowns at it, because it had no effect whatsoever to calm him down. He's still mad, and angry, and he thinks about calling Lydia, but it's too soon, too raw. She might kill him if he calls her asking for relationship advice.

He boots up his computer and stares at the screen, not quite knowing what to do. He starts playing a game, just to take his mind off of this horrible day. Some time later, he hears someone knocking on his door – it's getting late, and the sun is almost down.

"You there, Stiles?" comes his dad's voice, and Stiles breathes in deeply.

"Yeah, come in" he answers, and his dad opens the door, frowning at him.

"I was joking about the curfew, you know. It's summer and it's the weekend. Why aren't you out with Jackson?"

"Because he's a jerk" Stiles answers, glaring at the wall behind his dad's head.

It's partly true.

"Did you two have a fight?" his dad sounds amused, "The first fight is always good. Although it usually takes more than four days for it to happen."

Stiles snorts.

"It's hardly our first fight either" he mutters, and his dad stares at him strangely.

"Is there anything wrong with this thing, Stiles? This... you and Jackson thing? Because you seemed just as surprised as me when his parents announced you were together. Is this a prank he's playing on you?"

"You saw us before" he says, blushing again, and looking again, "Did it look like a prank?"

His dad chuckles.

"Not really, no. What happened then?"

"He was being a control freak, and overprotective, and I got mad. Then I drove his Porsche home because I was otherwise on foot, and I intend on freezing him out at least until tomorrow night."

His dad nods a bit, looking impressed.

"Sounds like a great plan."

"It is. He'll miss me so much he'll agree to whatever I say afterwards" he finishes with a grin, and his dad shakes his head.

"So you're doing nothing tonight?"

"Scott is coming over. Moral support and all that."

"Sure" his dad tries to sound serious, "Just make sure Melissa knows" he says, leaving Stiles's room.

Oh, she knows. She knows a whole lot.

Scott gets to his place about an hour after that, looking sheepish.

"So… how mad are you?" he asks when he sees Stiles, and the boy closes the door behind him.

"About you letting me think Allison was your mate? Not as mad as I was before Jackson trying to pull a Christian Grey on me."

Scott looks really confused.

"Who's Christian Grey?" he asks, but Stiles doesn't answer that.

"I mean, I can't _believe_ his nerve! _Demanding_ I take the bite, _demanding_ I stay out of it! He doesn't control my life!"

Scott is quiet, and Stiles stares at him, waiting.

"I'm waiting for some support here, Scott."

"It's just…"

"No! There's no _it's just_ in this! He's _wrong_!"

"Dude, chill, I know he is! It's just that he's crap at dealing with stuff. I mean, he became _the Kanima_ because he couldn't deal with things, and he's not good at dealing with you in danger. It's the instinct to protect, I guess. If you were a wolf, you'd have it too. Only you _won't_ become one, unless _you_ want it, or I'll rip out Jackson's throat myself" Scott says, frowning angrily, and Stiles smiles.

He may be an idiot sometimes, but Scott sure is a good friend.

They spend the night playing video games, and aren't bothered by stray mates. The night goes by calmly.

The next morning they have breakfast with the Sheriff and head out to Scott's, spending a good part of the day there – at about four in the afternoon, Stiles gets a text from his dad.

_Come home_.

That's weird.

He tells Scott he has to go, and leaves.

He gets to his house, opens the door, and hears voices in the kitchen.

When he gets there, The Whittemores are there, and with them, Jackson.

A _wolfed out_ Jackson.

The blonde smirks at him, all pointy fangs, and Stiles feels his heart stop beating.

Jackson has _told his dad_ about werewolves.

That complete _asshole._

* * *

**I started writing this story because of that dialogue with the references from 50 shades of grey and twilight. Hahahaha I'm really not funny. Hehehe. Sorry.**

**So, what do you think? Can they fix this? Also, just so I know – it won't change the plot, though, because I have it all planned, I'm just curious – do you think Stiles should agree to the bite?**

**Let me know what you think!**

**REVIEW!**


	8. unless it's the time to stop

**Keep Walking**

**unless it's the time to stop**

"What did you do?" Stiles whispers, his eyes big and round and so very _wide_, because Jackson couldn't have _done that_.

That was… that was crossing a line – the type of line that most times has no way of being put back together again.

"What needed to be done" answers Jackson, apparently apropos of _nothing_, because the _humans_ in the kitchen hadn't heard Stiles.

"Needed to be done? Are you freaking serious? What are you, a cowboy in a bad movie? What did you _do_, Jackson, what right did you HAVE—" Stiles starts raising his voice, but Jackson gets up and goes towards him, making Stiles take an involuntary step back, just to grow angry at himself for doing it a second later.

"Hey!" Jackson interrupts him, "You TOLD US your dad didn't know anything about this, you TOLD US you wouldn't accept the bite because he didn't know, I am SOLVING THE PROBLEM here!"

Stiles has never, _ever_, wanted to punch so much as he does right now.

"You complete IDIOT! I didn't say I wouldn't accept the bite _because_ my dad didn't know about this! I said I _wouldn't accept the bite_, and I said _my dad didn't know_. Those two facts do not go hand in hand! I won't get bitten, Jackson, and you can't make me."

Jackson growls and his eyes flash electric blue, but before he can actually _do_ anything his mom gets up and shouts his name at the same time they can hear a gun being cocked.

"Leave" says the Sheriff in a deadly voice, gun raised and ready to fire, and Jackson advances towards him, but Stiles grabs the sleeve of his shirt.

"I swear to God if you touch him I'll call Chris Argent _myself_."

Jackson's look at this is almost hurt, but he does back away, the unnatural blue in his eyes fading.

"I just want this to _work_" he says again, but it's not apologetic or even resentful, it's determined, as if by doing this _behind Stiles's back_ he gets something.

"Leave" Stiles repeats, and Jackson does leave with his parents.

The door shuts and the Sheriff lowers his gun, putting it on the table. His hands are trembling, and he massages his temple, a gesture Stiles has seen before when his dad is at his wits end with some case.

"You are going to explain this to me" says the man, and Stiles nods, helpless. This… this is not what was supposed to happen.

His father shouldn't have to deal with _this_ shit, never. His father didn't need this.

"I just… I need…" he takes in a deep breath and pulls out his phone, "I need to call Derek, ok? And then I'll tell you… everything."

"Hale? Derek Hale?" his dad asks, and Stiles wants to punch Jackson even more. What the hell? What _did_ he tell his dad, anyway?

"What did he tell you?"

His dad takes another deep breath and sits back down.

"He showed up, said there was something very important I should know about you both, and then he says werewolves are real. That's when I texted you. And then when I started suggesting his parents get him some medical help, he does that… that _thing_ with his face. Then you came in."

Stiles wants to _kill Jackson_.

"Well, he didn't tell you _anything_ then" he mumbles, and dials Derek, "I… I'll tell you everything, okay?" he reassures again, and his dad keeps looking at him, as if he thinks Stiles will just disappear before explaining what the hell is going on.

Finally, after at least ten rings, Derek answers.

"What do you want, Stiles?"

"What I want? Derek, I want Jackson's head _on a plate_. I want his dead, cold body on a stretcher at the morgue. I want his _fucking ashes in a jar!"_

"I don't have time to deal with a lover's spat, Stiles" Derek deadpans with an impassive voice, and Stiles snorts.

"Oh, you better _make time_, because he came here and _told my dad_ about werewolves."

"He did _what_?" Derek actually growls, and Stiles actually smiles.

Oh, this will be good.

"Yeah. So now I have to explain to the _Sheriff_ a lot of what went down the past few months. Thank your Beta for that."

"I'll talk to Jackson and then I'll head over to your place. If your dad has any doubts…" he doesn't say anything else, but Stiles is a bit grateful for the almost offer.

"Yeah, okay" Stiles mumbles, and then takes a deep breath, "Tell him if he shows his face at my place before I contact him I'll make good on my threat to call Argent. I mean it, Derek, I will. He hurts me, or my dad, or anyone else, and I'm letting the hunters handle him, I don't care if you don't want to lose your new boy-toy."

Derek is silent for a long moment, and Stiles starts to wonder if he'll threaten to kill Stiles instead, but he surprises the teen.

"I'll tell him."

And then the Alpha hangs up.

Stiles takes a moment to think, and he can feel his dad's gaze, as if telling him _I'm waiting_.

The boy finally sits down, and takes in another deep breath. This is it. This is the moment where he actually _tells his dad_ all about the lies and the pain he has been putting them through for _a whole year_.

"This is going to be hard and difficult, but I need you to listen to me until I finish, okay?" his dad looks impatient, but he does nod, and Stiles begins.

He tells him about going to look for Laura's body in the woods, and Scott getting bitten. He tells him about them thinking Derek was guilty of everything and finding out he wasn't. He tells about the Argents, and how they are hunters. He tells his dad about Peter, and about Peter's offer to bite him. He tells him about Peter's death, and Derek's new Alpha status, and about Lydia's immunity. He tells his dad about Matt and the Kanima, and how Allison blames Derek for her mother's death, and how Victoria was actually killing Scott. And then he tells his dad about Gerard, and the beating, and Erica and Boyd hanging by electrical wires and him being unable to help.

He tells him about seeing Lydia save Jackson, and having his heart broken.

And then he tells his dad about being bitten _by_ Jackson, and how now they were mates.

He was claimed. For all intents and purposes, he is _Jackson's_, and that is what left a bitter taste in his mouth.

His dad, of course, doesn't listen to all of it in silence. He asks, he prods, he makes Stiles tell things twice, three, four times until he gets it. He disapproves of so many things and lets it be known, but he listens.

And he _believes_ his son for the very first time in _months._

Stiles isn't sure for how long they talk, and when he ends with telling what led them to this situation – the argument he and Jackson had the day before – the kitchen is silent, and that silence is heavy, as if taking up all the space in the room.

"Why didn't you?" his father finally asks, after a good five minutes in absolute shocked silence.

"Why didn't I what?"

"Accept Peter Hale's offer. Become one of them" the look in his father's eyes is not only understanding as it is curious too, he knows Stiles too well to believe that Stiles wouldn't _want_ to be better. To be the hero he denied being all those weeks ago.

"I'm not leaving you" Stiles answers, looking down, "There's… there's a chance the bite won't take, and I'll die. There's a chance I'll be so bad at controlling myself I'll kill someone, and then I'm fair game to the hunters. I would want the powers, yeah, but I don't want to be like them."

The Sheriff stares at his son for so long Stiles is forced to look up again, just in time to see his dad smiles a bit regretfully.

"I'm proud of you. I don't approve of pretty much _anything_ you did this past year, but I'm proud of you."

Stiles smiles a bit at that, but his dad goes on.

"Still, what _can_ we do about this Jackson thing, Stiles? You don't love him. You don't even like him. What are we going to do? Is there a solution?"

"Killing Jackson" says a voice form the stairs, and the two inhabitants of the house look around to see Derek coming down the stairs. Stiles stares at him with his mouth open, but the Sheriff doesn't even twitch.

"How did you even _get in_?" Stiles flails, and Derek looks at him unimpressed.

"Through your bedroom window, which was _open_. You tell me you don't want Jackson coming here, and then leave your window _open_."

His tone indicates that Stiles must be stupid, but the boy doesn't care. He looks at his dad, waiting for a reaction, but the man just sighs again.

"I would tell you I'd arrest you, but honestly? After all I've heard, I'm more interested in answers than in dragging you to the station. There has to be a way to get rid of this mate business."

"There isn't" Derek bites out shortly, leaning against the sink, and staring at the Sheriff, "You can kill Jackson, and, honestly, most hunters would go for it on the issue of him having been the Kanima alone. That's the only thing that will make him not want to be with Stiles. Your son was claimed, and that claim is forever. It's up to the two of you if you can live with the knowledge that the death of a sixteen year old is on your backs."

Father and son stare at the man, and Stiles can see his dad is intrigued by Derek.

"Won't you have to avenge his death or something?" Stiles asks, and Derek stares at him with the same expression as before, as if Stiles is a few fries short of a Happy Meal.

"Not in this case, I won't. Chris probably wouldn't do it right now, because what Allison pulled off was completely out of the rules. But you can find someone, and honestly? Just for what Jackson did today I'd let you do it. He had no right of telling your father anything. Not only because he is _your_ father, but because he didn't contact me, and I _am_ his Alpha. He doesn't have the power to decide who knows what, and who to tell. He should have come to me, and he obviously thought he didn't have to. That assumption has been corrected."

Stiles stares wide-eyed at Derek. The way he spoke makes a shiver run down his spine.

"What do you mean?" he almost whispers, and the Sheriff looks at the other man expectantly too.

"I forbade him from seeing you. As his Alpha, you know I can _make_ him bend to my wishes, and he's not as strong as Scott was. That was his punishment, as well as a way of giving you a few days, Stiles. I know we don't really get along, and I also know you don't like me, but I would never force Jackson on you, and he is my responsibility. You have to think things through. But you have to know that the only way out of this is killing Jackson, or letting him be killed."

Stiles looks down at that, because he honestly doesn't want to answer right now. The way Jackson kept talking down to him, the way the boy kept treating him as a possession and not a person – that got on his nerves like nothing else.

But honestly? He didn't known if it would be enough to have a person _killed_.

This was the rest of his life he had to look into, though. His whole _life_ would be with Jackson if they didn't fix this mess.

Does he want that? To spend his days forever with the boy who tormented him and his best friend since forever? The boy who had Lydia Martin's love and instead of taking it had ruined all of their lives?

He bites his lip and looks down, not answering.

"Sheriff, if you have any doubts or problems, you can call me any time. It's good that you know what is going on in this town" Derek says after a while, nodding at the Sheriff and leaving through the front door without being escorted.

John looks like he'll complain about that, but Stiles has this feeling his dad is all talked out and exhausted from the income of news.

Too much in too little time.

The man stares at him for a moment, and then shakes his head, laughing ruefully.

"You know, things were never boring when your mother was around, but not even _she_ would have been able to pull off _this_ amount of trouble, son."

Stiles doesn't know how to answer to that, so he keeps quiet.

His dad gets up and stretches briefly.

"I'm going to head to bed. And I'm going to sleep. And tomorrow I'm going to let people at the station deal with things because we are going to talk. I would do that today, but I don't think I'm processing anything at all right now. Go get some sleep" he orders, leaving the kitchen.

Before he goes, though, he bends a bit and kisses Stiles on the forehead – and that makes the boy smile, because his dad forgives him.

He doesn't have to _say_ it, Stiles knows.

Finally, he goes to his room, and almost has a heart attack when Derek comes out of the shadows.

"Jesus _freaking_ Christ on a bike, will you _stop_ doing that?!" he exclaims in a hiss, but Derek ignores him, sitting on his desk chair.

"I came here to tell you something else" the man begins, "And I want you to know that if you ever repeat this to anyone, I will kill you, and not even your father will find the very small pieces you'll be turned into."

Stiles's eyes widen, but he doesn't say anything. He just sits on the edge of his bed, and waits.

"This mate thing has never made any sense. It's not based on anything as insofar we can understand, and not even Peter with his know-it-all attitude knows anything else about it but the fact that they exist, and we need them to live. Having being claimed like you were is something that shouldn't have happened, Stiles. That's not how that was supposed to work. There's supposed to be _consent_ for you to be claimed, and that's why I can't really blame you for wanting a way out" Derek pauses, and he seems to be gathering courage for something, "My mate…" he starts, and stops again, looking down angrily, as if saying the word makes him mad and hurt all at once, "Kate was my mate" he finally says, and Stiles gasps, his eyes going round with shock, "I didn't claim her, because she never consented. When she came back, even when she was torturing me, I couldn't bring myself to kill her. If Peter hadn't done it…" he swallows hard, and then shakes his head, and Stiles knows now that Derek wouldn't have killed her.

"You wouldn't have killed her, would you?" he says without thinking, and the look he gets in return could have melted iron.

"No, I wouldn't" he says back through gritted teeth, "And _this_ is what I wanted to tell you. She wasn't even claimed, and I couldn't have hurt her. You are taking this thing with Jackson in the wrong way, probably because we scared you into it, and gave Jackson the wrong idea. He won't hurt you. He can't. You say someone is off-limits for him, and he'll have to deal. He doesn't have the power in this, Stiles. You do" he says the last part staring into Stiles eyes, "Maybe you'll never want this, though. Maybe Jackson will always be the bully and the jackass, and you can never forgive him, and I don't blame you. But you have to see that he _won't_ be able to hurt you if you tell him no. You have to make this work, because that boy is too much of an idiot to do it" Derek finishes saying this and actually leaps out the window, before Stiles can answer.

What has the world come to, when Derek Hale is offering him advice on relationships?

And what's more, what _does_ he want to do now?

He honestly can't decide.

* * *

**Phew! I'm so sorry it took so long – I kind of hit a block in this one, and it blocked everything else. Hopefully, the issues are all solved now!**

**Next chapter, we have a bit of a Derek pov. Just to spice things up.**

**Let me know what you think!**

**REVIEW!**


	9. because it's what you have to do

**Keep Walking**

**because it's what you have to do**

When Derek looked at his phone and saw Stiles's name glowing there he actually assumed the worst. This was it. Jackson had killed someone, Jackson had invaded Stiles house and now Stiles was injured, Jackson had _bitten_ Stiles and now Stiles was dying – honestly? He was expecting the absolute worst.

So when he heard Stiles's voice demanding Jackson's head on a plate, he actually turned around and stared at Peter who raised his eyebrows. And as the story progressed he started feeling like _he_ wanted that teen's head on a plate too.

When he finally hangs up, Derek has to take a moment to, you know, _breathe_. He can't kill his Beta. He can't. He won't, no matter how much he wants to.

"You have to fix this" Peter says, and Derek glares at him.

"Thank you for pointing that out. I had no idea" he replies in a dry tone, and Peter actually frowns.

"I don't think you do have an idea, Derek. The Sheriff knowing about this can be the best or the worst thing to have happened to us. We handle this right, we'll have his support, always. Crazy hunters come after us, _we'll have the Sheriff by our side_. But if Jackson hurts a single hair on Stiles's head…" Peter doesn't have to finish, because they all _know_ that the man would never let something happening to his son go unpunished.

"Jackson thinks he has all the power in those two's relationship. He thinks that because he's a wolf, he can do whatever he pleases, and Stiles has to take it – and honestly, that is our fault for intimidating the kid into coming here and accepting Jackson in the first place, but you need to set him straight. You need to fix this, and convince Stiles he can fix this. Because Jackson won't – what that boy's got in looks, he certainly lacks in brains."

Derek wants to point out that he _knows_ all of this. He _knows_ that the sheriff knowing will be good for the pack if Stiles eventually accepts his place as a part of the pack because of his mate, and he _knows_ if anyone can make them work is Stiles, because Jackson is too much of a mess to see what he's doing wrong or right to fix it or keep it.

He _knows_. What he _doesn't_ know is how to handle this. Who is he to fix anyone? Who is he to try and make those two teens work out, when his own mate killed his family, burned his house down and tortured him with the full intention of killing him? Talk about hypocrisy, if he goes and tries to advise Stiles or Jackson in this mess.

"Look, I know you hate listening to me, but you _are_ the Alpha, Derek. You are the one they have to look up to, and being an Alpha means messing in more than fights and killing – you know that. You _have_ to remember that, I'm sure. Your dad running around trying to make your sisters achieve a compromise? The way he would interfere in everyone's marriages once or twice? The way everyone could come to him to complain and look for help, not only in the matters of danger, but in our _lives_" Peter stops talking and takes a step closer to Derek, "You and I both know that I was the worst Alpha to ever walk this town. You can do better."

And with that he leaves, and Derek takes a deep breath.

Well, he can try, right?

He doesn't bother getting his car, because running will attract less attention than his Camaro and he's all for being subtle tonight. Derek heads straight to Jackson's house, and he finds the window to the boy's room open. He gets in silently, and sees Jackson is clicking away angrily at something on his computer.

"You know, I never thought you were brilliant, but this is way too stupid even for you" he says, and Jackson startles. His eyes glow for a moment, and then he looks as if he doesn't know what to do – submit, glare, or maybe tell Derek to get out, it's all over his face, defiant and coward. Jackson is such a mess he can't even decide what to feel.

Man.

"What are you doing here?" the teen ends up asking with a small amount of viciousness in his voice, but at the same time he bares his neck a little. He defies and submits in a single breath.

"You seriously have to ask? Stiles called me the second you left his house. He called me and he told me he wanted your head on a plate" Derek answers in an almost mocking tone, taking a few steps closer to where Jackson is now standing by his desk, "He told me he wanted you dead. Your ashes in a jar. Congratulations, you made your mate so mad at you he _wants you dead_. He wasn't even lying, Jackson. I could tell."

He knows it's cruel, but there's no other language with this boy. He doesn't understand kindness and forgiveness. He doesn't understand compassion or mercy. He does, however, understand fear, and cruelty and pettiness. So this is it.

Jackson's breathing stops for a second, and then he raises his chin, as if he doesn't care about what he heard.

"Next time we talk I'll set him straight" he says, glaring all the while, and Derek snorts angrily, staring down at the boy.

"If there is a next time. Because now that his dad knows, I think his plan to call Argent and set him on you has backup."

"You wouldn't let him" Jackson states, but his voice is drowning in doubt, and Derek smirks.

"Honestly? I would. I want Stiles in my pack, because he brought Scott to my pack. And Scott is actually a good wolf, for all his failings. Stiles will be in my pack whether you're there or not, and packs are about assets as much as they are about safety" he stops and stares at Jackson silently for a moment, "Stiles? He's an asset" he explains, as if talking to a two year old child, "You? So far you've been a headache and a liability. You think you can intimidate and scare people now because you did it before? _You can't_. This is not how we work. You keep your head down, you keep your violence for the full moon, in the wild, and _not_ with your mate. You don't walk over other people's choices, Jackson. You are not better than anyone else in that pack. And that includes Stiles."

"I was just trying—"

"I _know_ what you were trying – you were trying to make things easier for _you_. Because that's how you live. Well, let me tell you something: not anymore. You are in a pack. You are not alone. You do not make these choices for anyone else, not even your mate. And most of all, you _do not_ defy your Alpha" Derek's voice goes extremely quiet in the last sentence, and his eyes shine red and bright.

He's dangerous, he's angry, and his anger is cold and deadly – it's not the hot kind of anger that'll go away once he's screamed, or maybe hit his Beta once or twice for discipline: this is worse. This is Derek, Jackson's Alpha, letting him know he's hanging by a thread in this pack.

Any mistake and he's gone.

"I didn't—" Jackson tries, but Derek stops him again.

"Do not tell me you didn't _defy_ me because you didn't ask for my permission, you are at least smart enough to know that I wouldn't have given you permission to tell Stiles's father. More than that, it should be _Stiles_'s choice. Even _I_, your _Alpha_, wouldn't have gone over his wishes like this."

Jackson is bursting with anger, but he doesn't defy Derek again – at least the boy has _some_ sense of self-preservation.

"What are you going to do?" Jackson asks, looking for punishment, for a way to end this conversation. And Derek smirks again.

"You can't see Stiles. Not until _he_ seeks you out."

The boy's eyes widen, and he's about to protest when Derek's eyes shine red again, and he growls lowly – that wasn't a request.

"You disobey me this time, and I will call Argent myself" Derek says and leaves.

He knows he hasn't dealt with this the best way possible, but he doesn't much care about Jackson right now. He's such an _idiot_.

After he leaves Jackson's house, Derek, honest to god, finds a dark corner and sighs.

What now?

He has to talk to Stiles. At the very least make the boy try and see that he _can_ fix Jackson – if he wants to. Otherwise, this will end in tragedy, and honestly? Derek doesn't need any more of that in his life.

He calmly walks to Stiles's house, trying to think of a way to make Stiles see sense. To make him understand he _can_ make Jackson see him as a person, and not an object he now has to play with. But how?

When he gets to the house, he lurks a bit around the bushes in the front yard, hidden in shadows, and eavesdrops – mostly because he _can_, but also because maybe he can gather some information before going in.

Stiles is telling his dad _everything_.

So, okay, maybe Jackson did it in all the wrong ways, for all the wrong reasons, but he did make a good thing. And with every single word they say, Derek realizes that, yes, Stiles can be vicious and mean, just like Scott warned him, but he isn't that way by _default_. He's not like Jackson, who seems to take some kind of twisted pleasure by demeaning the people around him – no, if at all possible, Stiles likes to _help_.

Well, maybe if Derek can paint Jackson as a helpless case, Stiles will at the very least try.

He waits to make his appearance, showing up just in time to make Stiles go all flailing, which is always amusing, and then saying his part. He's relieved the Sheriff doesn't shoot him on sight, but he's also glad to leave the man's presence, because maybe his lenience is only at work because of shock.

When he gets back to the house, and talks to Stiles again, he talks about Kate – and that makes his heart ache in terrible pain.

Why couldn't he have a mate like Stiles? Even Jackson, honestly. Someone willing to at the very least not to _kill you_ outright. He's in pain when he gets out of the boy's room, certain that Stiles will do the right thing, and that's as good as it's going to get.

He finally calls Scott and tells him to be around Stiles tomorrow, and for the following days, just in case Jackson tries something.

And if he does, well, Derek wasn't kidding. He'll call Argent, and let them handle Jackson for all that is worth.

When he gets home, it's all dark. Peter is god knows where, and Derek is alone.

All alone in the house his own mate burned to the ground.

It's pretty much all he has to remember her by: the ghosts of his dead family and the charred remains of their home.

**X**

Let it be said that, in all honesty, Stiles never contemplated actually allowing Jackson to be killed by hunters or Derek. He doesn't want a person's blood on his hands, but that's as far as it goes: he doesn't want to be a killer by proxy. He doesn't wish to become a murderer by lenience. And that's what it comes down to: for all he doesn't want Jackson dead, that's a big, huge, _enormous_ way away from wanting to _be his mate_.

That night, he can barely sleep. He spends part of it reveling in the fact that his dad now _knows_, and that's good, and in those moments he can actually forgive Jackson.

And then he thinks about how this will _endanger_ his father – and what's more, it'll make his father lie like nothing else at work, because even if he finds out _exactly_ what's been happening these past few months in their town, he'll never be able to _use_ that truth. His dad is the Sheriff. It's not fair to him to be able to know the truth and being unable to use it to his favor.

It's more than that too. It's not just the practical part of it that makes Stiles itch to punch Jackson _hard_: it's… _them_.

Jackson walking all over his choices, his moments, the decisions that should be _his,_ and his alone, to make. Jackson thinking he can control Stiles, that he _owns_ him, threatening him half the time, and pretending they are in love the other half.

Truth is Stiles isn't even over Lydia yet. He is not, and he wasn't even _with_ her.

What about Jackson? That jerk was dating her for over a _year_. They were together for months, and now he's all, oh, so this is my mate?

What the hell?

The point is that Stiles doesn't want Jackson dead, but he also doesn't want him. He hasn't fallen for Jackson, and hell will probably freeze over before Jackson truly falls for him.

So what now?

What _can_ they do to salvage this mockery of a relationship that is supposed to last, you know, _forever_? He spends most of his night awake and can't come up with an answer.

The next day, he wakes up when Scott calls him telling him to open the door.

They talk a bit – nothing about Jackson and Stiles's situation, or the fact that Scott hasn't told him who his own mate is. When Stiles dares to ask, Scott looks down, truly hurt, and says that it's complicated.

After that, Stiles is actually afraid to ask again, or to insist, because if it's _more complicated than Allison_, than Scott's mate is Peter. Or Chris Argent.

Or Lucifer.

Anyway, it's probably _bad_, so he lets it go.

The day goes by, and then the next and the next. Scott tells him Derek told Scott to be with Stiles all the time, in case Jackson tries to disobey him, but there's no sign of the blond anywhere.

Either he's good at obeying, or he's so afraid of Derek he dares not come after Stiles.

Or he just doesn't care enough to try.

After five days mulling over things, Stiles decides enough is enough.

He ditches Scott, and tells him he needs to do this alone. He lets his dad know he's going over to Jackson's by text, and his dad calls him back, telling him to be careful, and to _call Derek_ should anything happen.

He's definitely living in an alternative universe, isn't he?

When he gets to the mansion Jackson calls a house, his mom answers the door. She looks… well, less than perfect. She has bags under her eyes, and looks pale, and that, for someone like her, it's what wearing dirty sweatpants and an old t-shirt is like for normal people.

"Hey, Mrs. Whittemore, could I talk to Jackson?" he asks with a small, strained smile, and the woman looks so _relieved_ Stiles feels guilty.

How bad can things _get_?

"He's in his room, dear. You can go right up" she tells him, opening the door wide, and Stiles passes by her, going to the stairs.

When he gets to Jackson's room, he takes a deep breath, and opens the door.

They are going to _talk_ this time.

Whatever the outcome, after this, things won't ever be the same again.

* * *

**Sorry about the short chapter! It just felt right to stop here!**

**Next up, their little heart to heart, Scott's mate situation, and Lydia.**

**Tell me what you think!**

**REVIEW!**


	10. even if the way is unclear

**Keep Walking**

**even if the way is unclear**

When he opens the door, he can't see a thing. The windows are shut, the air a dense, warm thing, suffocating with the scent of sweat and days old food.

Stiles takes a deep breath and gets in, shutting the door behind him, and turning on the light.

"Jackson?" he calls once, mostly talking to the bump in the bed, which moves a little and whines quietly when he speaks, "Jackson, can you hear me? Are you even awake?" he says again, coming closer to the bed.

Now what? Is Jackson being a brat, or is this something real? Is he really feeling as miserable as he sounds?

When he finally gets to the bed, he pulls the comforter off the lump in the bed, and is honestly surprised by what he sees.

Jackson does look miserable. If this is him being a brat or an actually effect of whatever is up with the mate thing is still up to debate.

"Come on, Jackson" Stiles says again, exasperated. Jackson finally deigns to open his eyes, and he stares at Stiles fixedly – his eyes aren't normal either, they're not only _blue_, they're electric blue and glowing.

No other sign of him wolfing out, though.

They look at each other for a few seconds, and Jackson takes in a deep breath, as if trying to discern smells in the air.

"You're _really_ here" he says, his voice completely impassive.

"Yeah, I'm really here. To talk. To you, you know. But I'm not talking in this room with this… _air_" Stiles comments, waving his arms around to show his displeasure at the air, "Hell, if _I_ can barely breathe in this, how can you _stand it_. Aren't you supposed to have some kind of super sniffing abilities now?"

He goes to the window and opens the drapes and the window, letting the fresh air in. When he turns back to the bed, Jackson is actually sitting up – he's wearing an old shirt Stiles is quite sure no one would ever catch him dead in if he was feeling okay, and sweat pants.

Okay. Maybe his vanishing for five days hadn't been exactly fair to Jackson.

But, well, he kind of deserved it at the time.

They stare at each other again – Jackson's hands are grabbing the edge of the comforter that hadn't fallen to the floor yet, and he keeps swallowing hard, as if fighting some urge.

Probably the urge to come and bite Stiles's head off.

"What you did was completely out of the line," Stiles finally says, when it becomes evident Jackson won't be starting this particular conversation, "You disregarded my feelings on the matter, you went against everything I told you I didn't want to do, and you purposefully misunderstood me when I said I didn't want to get bitten, and that my dad didn't know. You're not stupid. You didn't really think you would get me to agree to it just because my dad knew of it. What _were_ you trying to accomplish, Jackson? My being mad at you? Because, well, it sort of worked marvelously then."

Jackson stares at him some more, apparently not daring to open his mouth. He hasn't said anything since his '_you're really here_'.

"Well, aren't you going to say anything?" Stiles prods and Jackson's eyes glow once more.

"I dreamed you were here. The few first times, I actually thought you were, and then I started trying to _smell you out_, and then it wasn't you, just this… thing. In my head. I called Derek, and he said it wasn't normal, but it did happen, when, well, when someone's claimed mate _rejected_ them. He said to give you time, and he kept _forbidding me_ from seeking you out. He said that when you were ready, you'd come to me. And it took you _five days_" his voice had started out as hurt, but now it's completely _mad_ at Stiles, and he feels a chill of fear, before he remembers Derek's words.

Jackson couldn't hurt him. He wouldn't'.

Derek said so.

Jackson just needed to be _aware_ of it, apparently, because by the whole growling thing he hadn't gotten this particular memo.

"It should have taken me longer, but I'm a soft hearted young man" he replies, and Jackson's eyes start doing the glow-y thing again.

"_Longer_?" he growls – but, strangely enough, doesn't make a single move to get out of bed.

"After you went behind my back and did something I didn't want to do? After you threatened me, and made me spend a whole night awake, wondering if you were going to kill me in the morning? After you implied you could kill everyone I care about? After you made your parents to go and talk to my dad before I even realized what was really going on? After you almost killed a kid because he _stumbled_? After I finally realized how completely fucked up this is? Yeah, it should have taken me more than five days to come after you" Stiles accuses, his tone dry and angry.

Jackson, still in bed, looks down. He doesn't look sorry or even apologetic, but he's strangely quiet.

"We need to fix this, Jackson" Stiles says again, his voice quiet, "I don't want to have killed, honestly, but I _refuse_ to live like this."

"Like this _what_, Stiles? Yeah, I fucked up, it happens, okay? It's not like you'll never make a mistake in this thing we have, as if you're always going to be perfect. I'll try not to go behind your back anymore. And those things I did at the beginning, you know it was only because you stayed away for too long, it was because my wolf was all out of sorts. I was… _wrong_. It won't happen again."

"_That_'s all you can think that it's wrong in this? Seriously? It won't happen again, and you think things will magically work out?"

"What else _is_ there, damn it?!" he finally exclaims in his snappy, normal voice, staring at Stiles – his eyes a normal color.

"How about the fact that I can't stand you? Or that you broke up with Lydia less than a month ago, after she _saved_ you? How about the fact that you can't stand me either, and that we have _nothing_ in common, except, perhaps, the Lacrosse team, in which you're the captain, and I'm the bench warmer? Have you seriously _not thought_ of this as a problem? Any of this? Fuck, Jackson, this is _the rest of our lives_ we're talking about, not a hook up over a weekend, that'll go away as soon as wish it to!"

"We don't have to keep on reliving the freaking past every time we try to make this thing—"

"HELL WE DON'T!" Stiles stops him, getting up from the bed, and glaring for all he's worth, "I don't know how your parents have dealt with you while you were growing up, I also don't know what kind of relationship you had with Lydia, because, honestly, I _don't want to know_. Ever. But we do need to take this shit seriously, and to fix whatever problem we might come to have in the future, we do need to begin at a better place than you despising me, and me hating you. This is not how a relationship is supposed to work!"

"What the hell _do you_ know about a relationship? You've never even _had _one!" Jackson finally gets up again, and his fists are closed by his side, as if he's afraid that if he moves them, he'll start tearing things apart, "You should be _grateful_ my wolf picked you for my mate as I did, because now you _have_ someone, as opposed to your miserable life from before when you were destined to die alone when Scott got Allison back, and ditched you for Isaac and Derek's pack! You weren't good enough for _anyone_, you should be thanking every deity in _existence_ you have _me._"

Stiles stares at Jackson, his mouth actually hanging open for about a whole minute as the blonde takes in big gulps of air.

How long has Jackson been holding that one out?

"You complete asshole" Stiles whispers, and walks to the door.

"Where are you going?"

The boy actually stops and _laughs_ – bitter and broken and so completely hollow he can see Jackson taking a step back.

"Anywhere far away from you."

"_What_? You can come in here, and talk crap about me, but you can't accept when I do the same? You can dish it out, but you can't take it, Stilinski?"

Stiles stops, his hand on the doorknob, and he tries to take in a deep breath, but he's just so completely _mad_ right now, he doesn't think he can.

This is different.

This isn't fear inducing, or saddening. This isn't even something that would make him want to curl up and die, or be disappointed in himself.

Oh, no. He was RAGING MAD at Jackson.

This is so _not_ what he came here for.

"I can dish it out but I can't take it?" he repeats quietly, turning around slowly, and facing Jackson – his whole face cold and angry. It's not something he's used to doing, but, honestly? This is crossing all the lines, "Really? That's what you took from everything I said before? That I was trying to be Regina George on you? Seriously? Are you that dumb? That completely conceited about yourself?"

"You come here, and I apologize, and then you criticize—"

"I wasn't _criticizing you_, you complete waste of space, I was pointing out what was wrong with the both of us! You want me to criticize you, as you put it? You want me to _dish it out_? Hell, yeah, I can. You are a low life scumbag, who thinks just because he's rich he's got a right to do anything and answer to nothing. An asshole who can't even realize his girlfriend is the smartest person in the whole school, who had someone who would die for him even when he so completely doesn't deserve it. A self-pitying bastard who can't see how good he's got it when he has parents who love him more than anything just because those aren't the parents he was born to – and you don't even have the excuse of being like that because they _abandoned_ you, because they didn't! A selfish prick who won't tell the police he knew his own neighbor was being almost beaten to _death_ by his father, and thinks he's right to do so just because it isn't any of his business! You think Isaac can't stand you because you were wild after the bite? No, you idiot, he can't stand you because you could have _done something_, and you didn't. Because you're such a coward, such a lowlife thing, that you can't see past your own needs, blinded to anyone else's!" Stiles walks as he talks, coming closer and closer to Jackson who just stands there, for once not wolfing out or even growling. He's listening, and growing paler with each word, "And you think I should be happy to have someone like that tied to me _forever?_ A coward, an idiot, a weak link, who wouldn't even be brave enough to assume what he had become, and turned into a _monster_ because he couldn't _find himself_? Probably you didn't even _have_ anything to find, you complete waste of space! You're the worst person I have ever met, and I was _all_ for ending that problem with the Kanima from the very beginning! Do you have _any idea _how hardScott had to fight to keep you alive? Between me and Derek, it was all he could do to try and save you, and you have _everything_ to thank him for! Because if it was up to _me_, your _mate_; or _Derek_, your _Alpha_; you'd be dead!"

Stiles is almost screaming by the end of it, and Jackson's eyes are wide, and for the first time _ever_, he shows hurt.

And fear.

And a plethora of other emotions that Stiles has never even thought he'd see Jackson have, let alone _show_. To him.

Maybe he's taken this too far, but he feels as if Jackson deserves it.

"Why are you even bothering then?" Jackson's voice is hollow and rough. He sounds as if he has been shouting, "Why come here, why try to pretend I had any chance, if all you'll do is call the Argents and then have me killed? Because, honestly, Stiles, if _that's_ how you feel about me, I don't get why you're here," he smiles bitterly at Stiles by the end of it, his voice broken just the tiniest bit, and Stiles takes a deep breath before talking.

"I'm here because I don't believe you are like that because you _want_ to be. I don't think you even realize how much you hurt everyone around you. And I think that, given the chance, you could be a decent human being," Stiles sighs deeply, and looks down for a second, before coming to a decision, and staring at Jackson again, "And in the name of full disclosure here, I think you can be better. And I think I can help you. But you have to be willing for this to work, because, even if you're the most popular guy in school, the captain of the Lacrosse team and _everybody's type_, even if I'm just the guy no one but Scott talks to and Derek's human pet, I refuse to be tied to someone like you, unless you can prove to me you can be better."

They are silent for a few moments, that seem to go on forever, and then Jackson shakes his head.

"How do I even do that?" he sounds bewildered and lost, and Stiles shakes his head a bit.

"That's up to you. Think about this, and call me when you're ready to talk without behaving like a five year old, who'll offend everyone around him just because he feels threatened."

He leaves after that. Jackson's mother sees him to the door, and she looks as if she'll try and ask him something, but she doesn't.

Which is just _amazing_, because he doesn't think he has the patience to deal with any more Whittemores right now.

He does know, however, who would have that kind of patience.

Besides, payback is a bitch.

He smirks a little, getting in his car and pulling his phone out before turning it on.

Finally, there's an answer, by the fifth ring.

"Hey, Danny-boy! It's Stiles. Do you think I could come by and talk to you for a bit? It's about Jackson."

He smirks all the way to Danny's house.

**X**

"Don't you think we should talk?" Scott startles at hearing the voice by his window, and he swears he almost flails about, just like Stiles.

Okay, now he finally knows what his best friend meant when he complained about the unexpected appearances.

"Isaac! Man, I totally didn't hear you! What? Derek gives you guys creeper lessons or something? I must have missed that class."

Isaac smiles weakly, and gets in through the window, sitting on Scott's bed.

"Don't you think we should talk?" he repeats, and Scott looks down, afraid and nervous.

"Sure. What do you want to talk about?"

"Scott," the other boy sounds pleading, and Scott sighs, running his hands through his hair.

"Look, I don't know if I can do that yet. I don't… Like, hate you? And I know that as far as bad mate things can go, Stiles and Jackson take all the awards, but I can't… _deal_ with this. Now. I…" he stops because he hears Isaac sighing.

"We don't have to talk about _that_ exactly. But how about you give me some sort of explanation, or time frame or _anything_, Scott. Because this is hard for you and I get it, but it's not exactly a picnic for me either."

Scott swallows hard, and keeps looking down, not daring to meet the other boy's eyes.

"I really loved her, Isaac. And I know it sounds stupid, and even hurtful, but before you became a werewolf, I didn't notice you. Not at school or even at Lacrosse, so when Derek told me the whole thing about _mates_, I thought – this is it. Allison is it. Even if I kind of knew it wasn't really it, because it wasn't… right. It wasn't what Derek told me it'd be. And then you showed up, and I messed up, and you were kind of a jerk, so I got used to ignoring this. And when you got so good at controlling yourself, I thought… I thought you were wrong, then. And I was wrong. And I had gotten the wrong impression about everything, because you were so calm. I never realized it'd be this much easier _because_ we were… because we knew."

Isaac stares at him silently, as if he also doesn't know what to do.

"I don't know what to do. I want to… be with you. But I don't know how, because Allison hasn't vanished in the universe, she's here" he puts his hand over his heart when he says it, "And I can't just let go like it never happened, because it did. I love… loved her. And I'm not quite sure how to let it go."

Isaac just sighs, and runs a hand over his curly hair.

"Can't we be friends? Like we were before, you know? It worked then. We'll figure it out as we go along, right?"

That didn't sound like a plan. Or a commitment. Or even a wise move.

But, after all, wasn't that _exactly_ his kind of move?

Scott smiles and nods.

"Yeah. We can do that" he grins at Isaac, and if the grin he gets I return makes his heart melt a little, well, this is his business, and his business alone.

* * *

**Oops, no time for Lydia. Next chapter she'll be here.**

**Sorry I kept you guys waiting, but this week was INSANE. Thanks a lot for reading it!**

**Let me know what you think!**

**REVIEW!**


	11. choosing your own path

**Keep Walking**

**choosing your own path**

Danny is… _bewildered_. It's no mystery for anyone who goes to Beacon Hills High that Stiles is a bit… out there when it comes to human behavior. He doesn't follow any of the usual social rules, and ever since Scott became more popular, the boy seems to be even more out there than before.

He was very, _very_ surprised by the whole thing with Jackson in front of the movies, a little over a week ago, and he hadn't, in fact, heard from Jackson ever since. That in and of itself wouldn't have been normal a few months back, but now he was getting used to the fact that his best friend was obviously going through something he didn't want Danny to be a part of.

So now his apparent boyfriend is calling Danny to "talk", so Danny is intrigued.

And worried.

Because he can't quite shake the image of Stiles's hands trembling when he reached for Jackson that night.

Ten minutes after he gets Stiles's call he looks out the window, because Stiles said he'd be right there and hasn't arrived yet, and Danny is curious. He sees the Jeep parked on his driveway, and Stiles is in it, on the phone, gesticulating all over the place, as usual. He seems to be arguing with someone, and Danny hopes to God it isn't Jackson – Jackson doesn't _know_ how to argue. He responds nicely enough to bribery, but he doesn't argue things. He's more of a my-way-or-the-high-way kind of guy.

The talk in the car seems to get to an end, and Stiles gets out, while Danny gets away from the window. He doesn't want Stiles thinking he's creepy – even if of all the people he knows, Stiles is probably the last one to judge him for that. He waits till his classmate has actually rung the bell before answering, and Stiles looks… tired.

"Hey, Danny" he greets with a small smile that lacks Stiles's usually flailing energy, and Danny arches an eyebrow.

"Hi. Come in" he invites, moving out of the way, and Stiles gets in, "What do you want to talk about?" Danny asks right away, because if he lets Stiles get on a tangent they'll be here for a week.

"Ah… you see, this matter is kind of sensitive, do you think we could talk in private?"

Danny glares a bit, and crosses his arms over his chest after closing the door behind him.

"Stiles, if you're here for tips about sex with Jackson…"

"Oh, God, NO! Christ, no, we've been going out for like ten days. Actually, we went out ONCE, and he thinks I ought to thank all the gods that I have him, and this is so not a conversation about sex. Geez, Danny."

The boy actually looks a bit green at the thought of sex, and that only serves to intrigue Danny further.

What the hell.

"Okay, then. Let's go to my room, ok?" he says and walks, expecting Stiles to follow. They're almost there when Stiles's phone starts ringing and the boy curses before answering, as he follows Danny into the room.

Danny sits on his bed, and waves Stiles to the desk chair.

"Yeah?" Stiles says into the phone, and Danny can barely discern Scott's voice, and he sounds _freaked out_, even if he can't understand what he's freaking out about.

"Jesus… No, Scott, I called Derek because he _should_ know what I'm about to tell Danny" he makes a pause, and sighs again, rubbing a hand over his eyes, "Look, I've gotta do this alone, ok? I don't need…" another pause, and Scott is almost screaming now. Danny is sure he discerns the words _Jackson_, _kill you_, and _I'm calling your dad if you don't_, "I'll call him soon, ok? Can I please do what I came here to do now? I have Derek's permission; he's your… _boss_. I don't need yours too," Is Danny going crazy or did Stiles hesitate before saying boss? And since when is a Derek Scott's boss? Wasn't the vet's name Deaton? "You don't need to come and get me" another pause, "I said you don't need to come and get me" one more pause, and then Stiles actually throws his left hand in the air, clearly at the end of his rope, "FINE! Jesus Christ, you're worse than my dad! I'll call you as soon as I'm done, and you can come here. Fine."

He hangs up and kind of growls something about overprotective wolves that has Danny frowning.

"Sorry about that" he apologizes with a small, tired smile, "Scott is going a bit nuts about this here. I wasn't supposed to come here, because apparently this should be Jackson's job, but I deserve revenge, and Derek said I could do it, even if I have a feeling Peter was there telling him to let me. All the creeper feels that one, but as long as he's on our side, right?"

Danny takes a minute before answering, because _what_?

"Stiles, I feel like I've lost half a conversation here."

"Right. So. I don't have any visual aid or anything. If worse comes to the worst I can call Scott and he can _prove_ to you, by _showing_ you, ok? Keep in mind that calling me crazy will have no effect on you whatsoever. Also keep in mind my dad's the sheriff, and he _knows_ all of what I'm about to tell you – and to be completely honest, he knows way, _way_ more than I'll tell you, mostly because some of it isn't any of your business, but also because it's Jackson's job to explain this shit to you, not mine."

"O…kay?" Danny agrees, looking more and more suspicious by the second.

"Right. Well. You know how Jackson had been acting extra weird the past couple of months before the whole dying-not-dying thing? The mood swings, the getting away from you and Lydia thing, and all of that?"

"Yeah. I do" Danny answers, a bit bitter, because, well, it had _sucked_. And Jackson wasn't over it yet, apparently, if he was calling Stilinski _his_, and Danny didn't even know why.

"Well, here's the deal, in a clear, simple way: Jackson – and Scott, Isaac, Erica and Boyd – are all werewolves" he says and then he waits.

Danny doesn't know if he should get angry or worried. On one hand, Stiles sounds deadly serious, and maybe he's gone crazy. On the other, maybe this is Jackson's idea of a joke.

He doesn't say anything, he just looks at Stiles and the boy opens his mouth to continue, when his phone rings again. Stiles looks at the screen, and then he answers it – and puts the call on speaker phone.

"Heeeeeey, dad!" he says cheerfully, and Danny can only stare, because _why_ would Stiles want him to listen to a conversation between him and his dad?

"_Where are you?"_ comes the angry, worried voice of the Sheriff, "_Scott called me ten minutes ago, completely insane with worry, because you said you were going to Jackson's. I don't want you alone with that boy. You call Scott, or you call Derek – hell, you even call that Lahey kid – but you do-not go to Jackson's alone._"

And now Danny is actually worried, because this is _the Sheriff_.

What the hell?

"I'm at Danny's, dad. Scott is coming over to pick me up later, and I called Derek before to let him know what I'm doing. I went to Jackson's, but it was fine. He's fine."

"_Fine. I want you home in an hour, and not a second later. I'm calling Scott right now to let him know that. Ask him if he can spend the night – I have the night shift again, and I don't want you alone here, when that boy can come in_."

Stiles actually sighs then, looking sad, and completely miserable.

"Okay. One hour and I'm home. I swear."

"_Love you, son_."

"Love you too, dad" Stiles answers and turns off the phone, staring at Danny, "_That_ is the result of the talk Jackson had with my dad five days ago. My dad who, by the way, knew nothing of this funky, werewolf business until Jackson went there and _told him_, to try to force me to become one too."

"Is that why he's trying to date you? To convince you to… become a werewolf?" Danny ends up asking, because, well, what _does_ someone ask when he is told his best friend is a werewolf, and the sheriff of the town seems to believe it too?

"Oh, no. That's a complete different matter, actually. I'll get to that after I give you the basics – the _very_ basics, though, because Jackson is going to do all the hard part of this after we are done talking here" he says with a small smirk, before continuing, "So, what you do need to know is: there's a pack of werewolves in town. Jackson is in it. So are Scott and Isaac and Peter – and, well, me now, because of everything. Derek is their boss, their Alpha, they answer to him. Jackson got bitten by Derek a while ago, but he had a wee bit of trouble changing – just… when you talk to him about this, ask him about the Kanima. Don't forget it – Kanima, ok?" he looks definitely _evil_ saying that word, and Danny can only nod, "The part where I'm actually _with_ Jackson is that… well, every wolf has a mate. Jackson doesn't possess an ounce of self-control and marked me. Which means we're stuck with each other forever – no matter that I truly, really, really despise him, and after a small part of our conversation today, I effectively hate him too. This is what I came here to tell you. So you can actually talk to Jackson into him turning into a real human being – you know, as much of a human as he can be, being a werewolf. Because if he doesn't, I swear to god I'm gonna let him get killed."

Danny is stunned by the amount of information. He's not quite sure he believes any of it, but, well, it's so insane, so completely stupid to do this, if it's a lie, because it'd be so easy to find it out, that he's actually tempted to believe it.

"Just… think about it, okay, Danny? Scott suddenly doesn't have asthma anymore? And gets great at Lacrosse? Derek Hale comes back into town and suddenly the body count is higher than the past ten years put together – arson at the Hale place put aside? Peter Hale goes missing from the hospital, and then suddenly has made a miraculous recovery? Isaac getting all confident and hot; and Erica Reyes? Have you _seen_ her lately? The only one who hasn't changed is Boyd, but he's the only one who has any sense. Plus, Lydia leaving? Out of the blue? You really don't think there's something weird with any of it?"

Danny can't deny it's weird, but werewolves? Seriously?

"Look, go and talk to him. He'll show you. He'll probably ask you to come to him, anyway, I just wanted to be the one to tell you because revenge. He told my dad _without_ my permission, so I told his best friend. Because his parents already knew, so it'd be kind of dumb telling them. But yeah, Danny-boy, welcome to Beacon Hills, where werewolves actually _exist_."

Danny tilts his head to the side, as Stiles sends a text, presumably to Scott, and gets up from his chair. They walk to the door, and when he opens it, Scott is already sitting on the hood of Stiles's car, looking at them with an awkward smile. Stiles turns to leave, when Danny holds one of his sleeves.

"Is that why you're afraid of him?" he asks, and he sees the boy freezing.

"Afraid of whom?" Stiles tries to play dumb, and Danny makes a face, showing him how unimpressed he is with it.

"That day we met, you were trembling, Stiles. Your hands were actually shaking. Is this why? Because he's a werewolf?"

Stiles looks at Scott, who's frowning, and then he shakes his head.

"I'm afraid of him because he's Jackson, Danny. It's got nothing to do with being a werewolf."

And with that, he leaves.

Danny stays by his door for about five minutes, trying to get his mind around all of it.

He wants it all to be a lie so bad, but honestly?

It makes… sense.

He gets his car keys and leaves.

He's going to confront Jackson, and this time he won't just let himself be pushed away. He wants answers, and he wants them _now_.

The drive to Jackson's house is mostly spent in contemplation of all that Stiles had said. Jesus Christ, if there's even the tiniest bit of truth in _any_ of the things the boy told him, Jackson is so completely screwed.

All of them are.

He gets out and rings the bell when he gets there, smiling politely at Jackson's mother.

"Hello, Mrs. Whittemore. Can I speak to Jackson, please?"

"Oh, dear, I'm not sure Jackson is up to speaking with anyone right now" she answers.

She's pale and looks sad and worried. With every passing second Danny is more and more convinced Stiles was at least partially telling the truth.

"Well, Stiles sent me?" he risks – it doesn't quite sound like the ringing affirmation he means to, more like a question, but he tries.

And then Emily Whittemore smiles at him.

"He did?"

"Yes. So, could I talk to Jackson?"

She opens the door all the way, and ushers him in.

"He is in quite a state. Stiles coming by earlier helped, but he's so… miserable" she tells him quietly while they walk to the stairs. When they get to the bottom, she smiles, and sends him up, "If you boys want anything to eat, there are some snacks in the kitchen. I have a meeting, but I'll be home later" she finishes with a kind smile, leaving, and Danny smiles back.

He gets to Jackson's door and doesn't bother knocking. They've known each other since diapers were all they wore; he doesn't need to knock when he comes into Jackson's room.

Or maybe he should, because Jackson is sitting in the middle of his bed, his arms around his knees – which are covered in some sweatpants Danny didn't even know he _owned_, let alone _wore_ – and he sounds as if… as if he's _sobbing_.

"I don't want you here. Go away" Jackson says without raising his head. Danny gets in and closes the door behind him.

"You don't even know who I am" Danny says, and Jackson snorts.

"Yeah. I could hear everything my mom said to you. I could hear you sighing from inside your car, Danny. I knew it was you."

Jackson finally raises his head and stares at Danny, and he looks _miserable_. Danny approaches slowly, and sits on the bed, facing Jackson.

"So, all those things Stiles told me…" he doesn't get to finish it, though, because Jackson stares at him and suddenly his eyes are _glowing_, a bright electric blue color, that just isn't normal.

"I won't risk shifting now, because I might just lose it, and go after Stiles, and rip his head off, and then I'm dead, because Argent, or the sheriff, or Derek, or my own miserable wolf will _end_ me."

Danny stares at Jackson for a full minute before saying anything else, or even moving. Jackson stares right back, waiting.

It's eerily reminiscent of the talk they had when they were fourteen, and Danny had just told Jackson about being gay. He just let the truth go out there, and then he waited for his best friend to make the first move. Rejection, or hate, or acceptance, or indifference.

All Jackson had done was scrunch up his nose and tell him that now he would have Lydia Martin as his girlfriend very easily, because Danny was the only true competition at that school.

Which was a pretty Jackson-y kind of answer, because he always thought of things in his own terms. When someone tells him something – anything – he doesn't analyze it from the person's perspective, but his own: how will that affect him, how can he take advantage of it, how will that be bad or good for him. If he isn't affected by it, he just doesn't very much care about anything.

It's not exactly the best way to deal with, well, _life_, but Danny likes Jackson.

He really does.

And the way his friend is talking so casually about being murdered isn't sitting well with Danny – even if all the stuff about werewolves is actually true.

"So, it's true, then. You really are dating Stiles?" he asks, and Jackson actually _snorts_.

"Sure. He tells you I'm a freaking werewolf, and you focus on my new relationship."

"I'm trying very hard not to think about this crazy thing that may or may not be truth. So, yes, I'm focusing on your relationship status. At least now it makes sense that Lydia went away. What happened? You couldn't get to her in time to bite her or something?"

Jackson shakes his head and, despite Danny's teasing tone, he looks miserable all over again.

"It doesn't work that way. A mate… is. I can't explain it. She was actually _hugging_ me, and then I could… _smell_ Stiles, and all of a sudden he was everything that existed in the world. That only thing that mattered was to get to him, to mark him, because there were so many _threats_ there, so many things could go wrong, and I couldn't let him get hurt. He had to be marked."

Danny keeps his silence when Jackson stops talking, because it's a very rare occurrence that he will. Every once in a while Jackson's mask falls down, and he comes up for air, and then he lets it all out, usually drunk to a stupor, and he lets Danny _know_ that's wrong with him, even if he denies it to hell and back when he's sober again.

Jackson isn't drunk, but he clearly needs to talk.

"So I did it. I let Lydia go, and I grabbed him, and I bit him, and then… well, honestly? I don't even know. Derek had to pry me off of him. There was blood _everywhere_, and Scott took him away with Peter's help, and I couldn't _think_ anymore" he continues, staring at the walls behind Danny's shoulder, "Derek says I went feral. I lost all humanity, and went completely wolf. I stayed like that for a few hours, I think, before I calmed down, and, well, Stiles was home. I couldn't see him. Derek kept me in a cell in his basement for a _thirteen days_, and I honestly thought I would _die_, because this… worry I had, that Stiles was dead, or dying, or where was he, and _why_ he didn't want me, and what could I do to make this work and _have him_. I didn't even _think_ of Lydia at _all_, Danny, and I…" he swallows hard, and closes his eyes, apparently trying to regain his composure, "Then he came. I think Peter had to threaten him, and I kind of attacked him again, and he was just so _afraid_, you have no idea. But he was there. It was all that mattered. Except he didn't _want_ to be, and I could _feel_ it, in his heartbeat, and the smell of fear and rejection – it drove me _insane_."

Jackson makes a pause, and stares at his friend, finally, shaking his head.

"When I finally went to see him, at his place, he smelled so much like Lydia, he had gone to say goodbye, and I… lost it. Again. Because I could finally _remember_ her right, and I could think of her, and I know Stiles is mine, but I can't make everything I feel for her disappear, and… So I did something stupid again. And again. And then I suggested he should get bitten, and went behind his back to tell his dad about werewolves, and now he honest to God hates me."

"What happens if he doesn't want to be with you?" Danny asks, and Jackson's eyes glow again.

He's growling.

"He's _mine_" Jackson bites out, and Danny's eyes go wide because whoa.

"I know. He's all yours" he answers, resisting the urge to get up and away from the bed.

Jackson takes a deep breath again, looking down.

"Sorry. It's… difficult."

"So, it's all true then. He told me make you tell me all of it. He only told me you were a… well" he can't quite say it, because it's so ludicrous, "He said it was your job to tell me everything."

Jackson snorts again.

"I don't _know_ everything. That little shit is up to his neck in werewolf business. By the way Derek and Peter speak of him you'd think _he_ was a werewolf. He is in it from the very beginning, because of McCall, and I don't even remember most of what happened these past few months."

Danny looks intrigued for a moment.

"Because of the Kanima?" he asks casually, and Jackson actually pales, looking afraid and lost.

"He told you about that?" he whispers, and Danny shakes his head.

"No. But he did tell me to ask you about it."

Jackson stares at Danny for a long moment, before shaking his head.

"He does hate me. A lot. I have no idea how this will work."

"I still don't get it. What work?" Danny asks, confused, "Aren't you already _with_ him?"

Jackson shakes his head again.

"No. I mean, he's with me. We're together, but he doesn't… accept it? I can't quite explain it. I just know he isn't… committed to this. And I know that with what went down earlier he might as well go and tell Argent to finish me."

"It's the fourth time you mention Argent. Are we talking about Allison here?"

Jackson stares at his friend and looks just a bit like the cynical bastard he knows and loves. It warms Danny's heart.

"Her whole _family_ is made up of werewolf hunters."

Danny is stunned into silent, while his eyes go wide.

"And she was _dating McCall_?" he says, and Jackson throws a pillow at him.

"Can we focus on _my_ problem here? Who cares about Mogly and Katniss when my _mate_ hates me!" he exclaims, and startles a laugh out of Danny.

Well, it's good to know some things never change.

"Okay. Have you tried, you know, seducing him?" Danny asks, trying not to think of Stiles like that.

"Yeah. That day, after the movies. Things were going well, and then he kind of went all… philosopher on me. Like how we didn't have to rush things, because we have forever, and how he's never done any of this before. Which I hadn't considered thinking about, because we're sixteen. How does he _live_?"

"Stiles isn't like that, I think" Danny says, frowning a bit as he thinks, "I mean, he's pretty closed up when you think about it. We know personal stuff about pretty much everyone in school, but when you think about Stiles no one knows a lot. I think not even McCall does. And before he got popular, Stiles was actually the one who led that duo. He talks and talks, and always manages to divert the attention off of _him_ to whatever stupid thing he's doing. What _do_ we know about him?" Danny says, thinking hard about it.

"We know he's _mine_" Jackson points out, possessiveness clear in his tone, and Danny rolls his eyes, "We also know he's got a crush on Lydia. He was crying, when I bit him. Because she was with me" his voice is quiet when he says that, and Danny takes a mental note to try and find out what happened on this day, when Stiles got bitten, because it sounds so damn serious and miserable, "His best friend is McCall, even if I think they are having some sort of problem, because they haven't been as close, lately. He knows about werewolves, and he's Peter's favorite. Derek's too, honestly. If I didn't know any better I'd say those two would _like_ to have Stiles as a mate" he finishes grumpily, and Danny has to bite his lip to stop himself from, laughing.

Jackson is _jealous_ of _Stiles Stilinski_.

What has the world come to?

"Okay, so this is it. He has no experience, you can't rush things. You said so yourself, you guys are _it_, so take it slow. What's so hard about that?"

"Danny, he doesn't want to _take it slow_, he wants me dead. Plus, it isn't just this relationship thing. It's… dangerous. Really dangerous. Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd are missing, did you know that? Derek thinks it's something really bad coming. On the night of the full moon he had us all worried sick, he searched all night long, and couldn't find a single trace of them. He did find something else, though, which he didn't tell _me_, but he did tell Scott. Who'll tell Stiles. And Stiles is human. It's dangerous for him, and he doesn't care. I have to protect him, and he won't let me. I don't know how to deal with him, because he never, _ever_, does what I want him to do!"

"But how much trouble can he get into? I mean…"

Jackson snorts again.

"Okay, you know him even less than I do. He can get into _all_ the trouble. Into everything. He and McCall think they are like super heroes, and Derek encourages them."

Danny nods.

"Okay, even if it's true, I think your problem is that you're trying to treat Stiles like you treated Lydia, and you can't do that."

Jackson just stares at him, annoyed.

"Don't get mad, but it's true. She loved you. She did everything for you. You've never had to fight for her, because she was there. He isn't. As far as I understand it, _you_ need him, and he's being kind enough to try. Seriously, Jackson? If a guy who pulled half the shit you did on him told _me_ I had to spend the rest of my life with him, I'd tell him to go hang himself. He's putting his _life_ at your disposal, and you're complaining he won't follow you like a trained dog. I'm not saying lie on the ground and let him walk over you, but you can't assume he _wants_ you. I didn't even know he was truly gay, honestly. I just assumed he was always asking questions to annoy me."

Jackson is quiet, and Danny narrows his eyes at him.

"You don't know either, do you? You just assumed he'd feel attracted to you because you're _you_! God, Jackson, you fail at _life_ sometimes!"

"Thanks, Danny, that's very helpful" Jackson says with a glare, and Danny just shakes his head.

"Look, I don't like this situation, and I haven't yet decided if you're telling me the truth or not, but I'm going to assume you're not a complete basket case, and think you're telling the truth. So I'm going to try and help, and you'll be indebted to me _forever_ because that's how long your relationship will last. So, tell me everything you know about this business, from the very beginning."

Jackson opens his mouth to retort, but then his whole face freezes, and he smells the air, just like a dog. Danny is about to ask him what's wrong, when Jackson's eyes glow blue again, and his _face_ changes.

"Shit" the blond says, and then he's running through his house. Danny follows him as fast as he can, but he can't quite match Jackson's pace.

When he gets to where the blond went, he freezes too.

On Jackson's back door is a body.

His skin is very dark, but the blood is evident against his torso and jeans. He's shirtless, and there's an arrow through where his heart should be.

_Should be_ being the key part, because there's a _hole in his chest_.

Jackson looks afraid and sick, and Danny is just considering throwing up when Jackson puts his head up and _howls_.

Not five seconds later a stronger howl answers; and Danny is scared into silence.

Holy freaking shit, Stiles was telling him the truth.

* * *

**Tada!**

**Hope you all enjoyed it!**

**Again, not quite what I had planned, but oh well. It works.**

**What do you think of it? Let me know!**

**REVIEW!**


	12. especially if the road is strange

**Keep Walking**

**especially if the road is strange**

One second they're actually bitching about Harris and his completely unfair treatment of Stiles, and the next Scott has gone utterly still, listening.

There's a howl, and it makes the ends of Stiles's hair stand on end, because it's _frightening_.

"That's Jackson" Scott whispers just as there's an answering howl, just as loud as the first, and Stiles doesn't really have the time to question how or why Scott knew that, because Scott's phone starts to ring. The boy answers it quickly, then looks at Stiles when he hangs up, "Derek told me to go to Jackson's, something's happened. I'll call you when I know more" he says, and runs out.

Yeah, sure, because Stiles is actually going to _stay home_ when his _mate_, even if he's still pissed at him, is howling like _that_.

What if Jackson howled like that because of _him_? Of something he did without knowing? He hates the guy's guts, but he doesn't want him _dead_, that's the whole point of them fighting all the time, isn't it?

He runs to his Jeep, driving to Jackson's as fast as he can – he knows he won't be as fast as Scott running, but he'll take what he can get. When he gets there, the front door is unlocked, and Derek and Scott are looking at something at the backdoor – Derek is actually kind of wolf-whimpering or something. It's a weird noise, distressed and furious and quiet, all at once.

Jackson seems to sense his presence as he enters, because the blond turns to him so fast Stiles barely registers it, and then Jackson _runs_ at him, and hugs him tight.

"Jesus Christ" the blond teen says, and Stiles is at a loss. When he looks around the room, he notices Danny sitting on the couch, his head between his knees, and Isaac over him, saying something in a calming tone.

"What is going on?" Stiles asks, trying to get disentangled from Jackson's arms – he's still pissed at him.

Derek and Scott turn to him and turn their back on whatever they were watching outside. Peter comes from outside too, and he sighs, staring at Derek for a moment, before the Alpha nods.

The older man doesn't really answer him as much as he gestures to the door, and Stiles goes over, extricating his arm from Jackson's grip with a glare.

Oh, boy, did he wish he hadn't.

It's Boyd. He's bloody, and thinner, and his skin is covered in blood. His freaking _heart_ is missing, and the arrow is stuck on his chest cavity, and… he turns around and tries very hard not to throw up.

"Oh my God, what did that? _Who_ did that? Hunters?" he asks a bit crazily, not even noticing when Jackson guides him back to the couch, sitting him beside Danny.

Stiles looks at Scott, because there's an _arrow_, and the last time he saw Boyd he was hanging by wires at _Allison's basement_, and she has arrows all over the place.

Peter is shaking his head though.

"No. That wasn't the work of hunters. They favor cutting the wolf in half, not taking their hearts out. That was the work of the pack of Alphas who's lurking around Beacon Hills."

There's silence when he finishes, and Stiles stares at the man for a bit. He hadn't even noticed Jackson was sitting on his other side at his side, his hands tightening and loosening by his side, as if he's trying very, very hard not to grab Stiles again.

"So we can be pretty sure that Erica…" he starts, and Derek does the weird noise again, his eyes flashing red.

"She's probably gone too. Or on her way to be dead, unless we find out what they want and how to kill them in the next few minutes" Peter answers, looking at the body again.

It's different, this thing. This having Peter on their side and being a single pack thing.

The threat feels… even _more_ dangerous. Because before they were dealing with the unknown, sure, but it was _one thing_. It was the psychotic Alpha, and then the crazy lizard killer – both of which are actually _on their side_ this time. Now it's a whole _pack_, and they are _beginning_ their game with two of their… acquaintances down.

He won't call Boyd or Erica friends – he kind of really disliked Erica for a while there, and he's pretty indifferent about Boyd – but they were a part of his pack, and not they're dead.

"I need to call my dad" he ends up saying, standing up, and everyone, including Danny, stares at him as if he's crazy, "What? You don't think Boyd's family deserves to know where he is? You think the Police don't deserve to know where the hell are the teens they have search parties for? If there's one good thing that came out of this mess Jackson made, is that I can be honest with my dad. So I'm going to call him, and we can find a reasonable explanation that doesn't involve any of us getting arrested, ok?" he takes in a deep breath, and shakes his head, "Plus, the last body we dealt with is kind of standing near the door. So we'll let the Police do it this time."

Danny looks a bit freaked out by Stiles's last sentence more than the body, eyeing Peter as the man smirks at him. Stiles gets his phone out, and calls his dad on his cellphone, not wanting to risk calling the station.

His dad answers on the first ring, which means he's either so busy he wants to get the call over with, or the day is so slow he has the time to be playing on his phone.

"What happened?" he asks right away, and Stiles sighs – sometimes it sucks that his dad is kind of always right to guess when he's in trouble.

"Look, something really, _really_ bad happened, and we kind of really, _really_ need your help. We're not in any danger right now, I'm fine, but we need your help. I'm sorry" Stiles says, and hears his dad getting up, the sound of keys clicking together coming over the phone.

"Who's this _we_ you're talking? You and Scott, you and Jackson?"

"We, the pack" he answers carefully, and his dad is silent on the other side, "We're at Jackson's, I'll tell you everything when you get here, just…" he doesn't say anything else because he doesn't quite know how to.

"Yeah, I'm coming" his dad answers and they hang up.

"And now we wait" he says grimly. Peter is staring at him speculatively, and Derek doesn't look happy, but then again, he never does.

"You are all way too calm about this" Danny comments after a few moments in silence, and Stiles, Scott and Derek snort in unison.

"We're not calm, we're just waiting for the shit to really hit the fan before we completely freak out. Which will be soon. You shouldn't even be here" Stiles says, looking at Danny with a new kind of fear, "You don't need to be in the middle of this, this is not why I told you everything!" he turns around to stare at Jackson, and actually hits the blond on the shoulder, "What kind of friend _are_ you that you didn't send him home?"

Jackson can only stare at Stiles, not even answering, but Peter answers him anyway.

"I don't think that'd be wise. Jackson smelt them leaving the body here, they certainly knew there was at least one human here, and they know it's not you. They know a non-pack human would be here, and they left the body anyway. It means they know of Danny, which means he's in just as much danger as the rest of us. So sending him home is really not an option."

"I'm so sorry" Stiles says, looking down. He didn't mean to bring Danny into the crazy, he just wanted to get Jackson into trouble.

"I think I'd actually rather _know_ the dangers to not knowing what the hell is going on" Danny offers, trying for a smile and not quite achieving it.

"Half the time we _don't_ know what the hell is going on either" Scott comments and no one answers, because all the wolves look to the front door. Isaac is the one who opens it, and the Sheriff is coming up the driveway. Peter gets in fully, and closes the door to the garden behind him, hiding the body temporarily.

Stiles is up in a second, actually pulling his dad into a hug when he gets to the man, and the Sheriff is even more concerned looking when his son lets him go.

"What is happening?" he asks, looking around bewilderedly.

Derek takes a step forward and nods briefly to the Sheriff in greeting.

"We were home not even an hour ago when Jackson howled in distress. I came here, and called Scott, who told Stiles to _stay home_" he says, looking at Stiles disapprovingly for a second, before focusing in the Sheriff again, "When we got here, Jackson and Danny were staring out the door, where our… current enemies had left us a message."

"What message?" John asks, looking like he really just wants to ask about this _current enemy_ thing first.

"Boyd's body. He ran away from Gerard Argent the day of the final game, he and Erica were supposed to be gone looking for a new pack, but they left half their things in the forest, and we didn't hear from them again. Now we know they are dead."

"The missing kids? They are dead?" the sheriff asks, looking around the room a bit frantically.

"Yes, they are" Peter says, opening the door behind him, and John walks to him, looking outside. Stiles stares at his dad's face, and he sees his expression turn grim and defeated as it always did when someone so young lost their lives.

"Who did it? And do you have any idea why?" he asks, trying to sound professional, and then frowning when Derek looks like he doesn't want to talk, "Son, if you want my help, you'll have to explain this. I'm not saying now, because I think that young man's family takes priority right now, but we do" he glares fiercely at Derek, who finally nods.

John looks outside again, and then he looks at Stiles when the boy coughs, trying to get everyone's attention.

"Before anyone says anything can I just say how very, very _bad_ it'll look when everyone is here about the body?" he asks tentatively, "After last year's troubles, we can't afford to be in the middle of this shit again, at least not publicly. Boyd wasn't _killed_ here, the blood on his chest is mostly dry, we don't even know how long ago he _was_ killed, there's no reason for him to be _found_ in here. No reason to implicate Jackson in this mess, and no reason for Derek or Isaac or Peter to be around when someone officially finds Boyd" he says, and looks around the room, expectant.

"You're telling me you want to what, drop this boy' body in the woods, and hope for the best?" his dad asks him indignantly, and Stiles shakes his head fast.

"GOD, dad, NO! I want Derek and Scott to take Boyd's body somewhere else, where someone who hasn't been brought into any kind of investigation in the last year will then call the department and you guys can handle this. If there was any kind of clue or trail about where his body _was_ before it was dropped here one of the guys would have picked it up, and they didn't. There's no trail. Boyd's body being here is a threat, but it won't help any in the investigation if he's here or anywhere else. And to be honest, I really think that the police _not knowing_ anything else is for the best, because we don't need any more officers killed after Matt."

Jackson looks down at the mention of Matt, and Stiles feels bad for bringing it up, but he _has_ to. They can't be in the middle of this again.

John stares at his son for a long moment, and then at Derek, who hasn't said anything – which is a clear sign he agrees with Stiles, otherwise he'd have let his disagreement show by the way of a growl, or, if they're lucky, words.

"Fine. Who's going to find him and where?"

Scott offers to find Boyd's body in the woods opposite the Hale property, near the end of town. Peter and Derek leave with him, helping carry Boyd, and Isaac goes to clean the outside of the door. Jackson and Danny are still completely silent, and Stiles has the sneaking suspicion that they aren't quite ready to deal with this level of shit yet.

Well, neither was he when Peter was crazy and hunting them, but what can you do?

John stays with the boys, silent and angry, because he doesn't like that they are breaking about fifteen different kinds of laws right now, but he knows what Stiles said was true: if anyone had a chance of dealing with this successfully it wouldn't be the humans.

When his phone rings he answers shortly, and tells the deputy calling he's on his way.

His story is that he was talking to Jackson and Stiles about their relationship, and that's why he was out.

"You go to our place and stay put, all of you" he says clearly when he's leaving, staring at the four teens in the living room, "And no funny business" he glares at Jackson and leaves.

Slowly, all of them shuffle into Stiles Jeep. Jackson doesn't say a word when they get to the car and Isaac gets to shotgun before him, sitting beside Danny in the backseat silently. They don't talk on the ride over to Stiles's either, and the boy gets more and more nervous, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to some weird rhythm.

They get to the house and Stiles guides them to the living room, where everyone sits in various states of awkwardness. Isaac is quiet and silent, glaring at Jackson as though the blond is personally offending him with his mere presence, and Danny is looking down, seemingly a bit lost.

Jackson is stiff and quiet and he looks like he wants to disappear. Stiles, for the first time since he left Jackson's a few hours ago – was it only _hours_? It feels like a century or two – actually _looks_ at Jackson, and he isn't looking much better than he was then.

"When did you last _shower_?" he ends up asking, looking at the blond sideways, "Seriously, no wonder Isaac is glaring at you, you must _reek_."

Jackson doesn't answer, he looks at Stiles with a glare that is only a ghost of what he's used to get and Stiles sighs.

"Look, this thing is going to take a while, and we all have to be here for when Derek and my dad get back so your dear Alpha can explain everything to my dad. Go upstairs and take a shower. You can borrow some of my clothes if you want."

Jackson just stares at him, and Stiles tries very hard not to notice the way Isaac and Danny are staring at him.

"Are you sure?" the blond eventually asks, and Stiles nods.

"Yeah. There're some clean towels in the bathroom, under the sink. You know where my room is, just go and get whatever you want, I'll make us all something to eat while you shower, ok?"

They stare at each other for a few moments, and Stiles feels that they are doing more than simply dealing with a hard situation – they are kind of trying to measure the other, see if they are actually _trying to do this_, for real this time, not hiding behind grudges and make-believe excuses. Trying to decide if the other is honest in their gestures and words.

They are measuring up their will to make _them_ work.

They are.

It only took one of their pack to show up dead at the back of a house for them to see they not only _have_ to make this work: they _can_ make this work.

Jackson nods, finally, and goes upstairs, brushing his hand on Stiles's briefly as he passes the other boy, and they stay in silence until they hear the shower running.

"How are you doing this?" Danny eventually whispers, looking terrified now that Jackson isn't around anymore. Isaac snorts, and slouches on the armchair he's in, closing his eyes.

"Doing it" Stiles says eventually, "We just… do what needs to be done. It was hard the first time, and the second time was worse, and something tells me that whatever is coming now is going to be the worst of all, but we deal with it because we _have_ to deal with it. At least now our enemy isn't one of our friends or a family member. That _has_ to count for something."

Danny doesn't answer, and Isaac looks to be sleeping – he isn't, but it's probably easier to ignore all the awkward rolling around like that.

Eventually, Stiles gets up and goes to the kitchen. He's not a great cook or anything, but he can make something for the pack to eat while Derek fills them in in the whole Alpha Pack business, seeing as Stiles was out in a huff when he told the rest if the pack a few days ago, and his dad needs to know what, exactly, he's breaking the law for.

He's just putting a pan full of water to boil to make some pasta when Danny comes into the kitchen.

"What did you mean before? I'm assuming that family is that creepy Peter guy, but friend? Did one of the other guys get crazy before?" he asks, and Stiles just stares at him, leaning on the sink.

"It's not my story to tell" he answers eventually, and Danny looks suspicious.

"Look, this hasn't been my favorite day so far, ok? You and Jackson getting together was weird enough, but that is a kind of weird I can _handle_. Add the werewolves and I got a bit freaked out, but it's Jackson, and he's stuck with me through thick and thin, so I will find a way to deal – but… bodies in the woods, Stiles? The way you just… took over for a cover story, and a way not to implicate any of our friends in it, and how that Derek guy just went with it – not to mention your _father_ – which makes me think this is not the first time you've been dealing with this, and now you pretty much _tell me_ one of our friends was killing people and you don't want to tell me? What the hell? Who was it?" he demands, his voice firm and almost angry.

"It was me" says a voice from the doorway, and they turn to see Jackson leaning on the doorsill.

Won't that be a cheerful conversation?

* * *

**I'm so sorry for the delay, but I'm a teacher, and finals are a bitch to prepare and correct. Thank God we're only three weeks away from the break or I would end up killing someone.**

**Tell me what you thought of it!**

**REVIEW!**


	13. even if you have to make your own way

**Keep Walking**

**even if you have to make your own way**

People talk about uncomfortable silences all the time, but a _real_ uncomfortable silence is not something you can really describe. There's the need to break it, but you don't know how, and there's the wish to just let it continue, because whoever breaks it is going to be a hell of a lot _more_ uncomfortable than they are even _during_ said silence. It's awful.

It's awful and it's happening right now, in Stiles kitchen.

He swears Danny has been staring at Jackson for at least three days, but it's probably a few minutes – maybe even seconds – but the guy isn't _saying_ anything.

He's just staring. As if he can figure Jackson out with a look – which he can't, Jackson isn't Scott who Stiles can read like an open book most of the time – or maybe he's just waiting for Jackson to say something else.

"I don't believe you" he finally says, and Stiles looks at Jackson and then at Danny. The blond doesn't answer immediately; he gets into the kitchen, crosses his arms over his chest and looks down. Half of him looks defiant and angry, and the other half looks afraid and lost, and Stiles doesn't know if he wants to be here for this.

He _should_ be here for this. He's this guy's _mate_, but he sure as hell doesn't want to be, because it's _awkward_.

He doesn't want to remember Jackson killing people, and after his last couple of days, he doesn't want to remember all those times he was in favor of killing Jackson or letting him die.

He's also not very fond of reliving the way Jackson was cured, which pretty much initiated the position they are in now.

"I should…" he starts, but Jackson looks at him and he looks just the tiniest bit desperate. As if he wants Stiles to stay. They look at each other for a moment, and Stiles sighs, defeated, "I should stay right here" he mutters, and crosses his arms over his chest too, Jackson leaning against the kitchen counter, just a few steps away.

"I asked Derek to bite me way before he turned Erica and Boyd and Isaac. He did it, and it didn't take."

"Why?" Danny asks, his voice just a whisper, as if he can't _understand_ what Jackson is saying.

"We don't know, though it probably has something to do with Lydia's…"

"No" Danny interrupts, "Why did you _ask_ for it? Are you insane? You _asked_ to be turned into a werewolf, into a monster who can kill people? Someone who's so tied with instincts that you have a destined _mate_? Jackson, what were you thinking?!" Danny asks, and Jackson looks surprised for a half a second before shrugging.

"I wanted to have what McCall had. I wanted to be stronger and faster, and a better player. I wanted to be the best" he says, looking a bit like Jackson used to before the Kanima mess, saying he's everyone's type and was better than everyone else.

Danny doesn't even answer to that, he just shakes his head and leans against the back of his chair, staring at Jackson expectantly.

"As I was saying, I think there's something to do with Lydia. She's immune to all this stuff, she was bitten by an Alpha and she didn't turn. Also, I was… I… have some issues I've been trying to work through, but that didn't help. The bite didn't take, but I turned into something… else."

"A Kanima?" Danny guesses, knowing the word but not its meaning. Jackson takes a deep breath and nods.

"Yes" he stares into Danny's eyes, and then he turns to Stiles, as if he's waiting for him to help just by being there – and maybe he is. Stiles isn't very sure of anything right now, "You remember when you were paralyzed at Jungle?" he asks, turning back to his best friend, and Danny nods slowly, "That was me. Also the guy who died in the garage, crushed by Stiles's Jeep. And all the deputies who were killed the night Matt Daehler killed himself in the lake. Isaac's dad. I almost killed Stiles a couple of times. I paralyzed Derek, and tried to kill Scott. I did all of that" he's staring at Danny defiantly, as if waiting for him to judge him, and Stiles just can't _take_ it.

"No, you didn't" he intervenes, looking mad. He frowns at Jackson, uncrossing his arms, "The only thing you did was follow your instincts and find a Master. You didn't consciously kill anyone, Jackson, no one blames you for it! Hell, Derek's taken you into his pack, Scott is trying to help us work this shit out, your parents have accepted what you are now, and Isaac even stays in the same room as you without killing you, and that's restraint! _I_ don't blame you, and you made me keep Derek from drowning for two _hours_. You didn't do it. They used you. Matt used you, and Gerard used you. It's not your fault" he finishes firmly, and now Jackson is actually _glaring_ at him.

"So you're telling me that you _didn't_ want me dead? That you weren't the one who tried to convince McCall to go along Derek's plan of just killing the Kanima instead of trying to cure it? That you weren't hoping, that night at the warehouse, that I was truly dead when Peter and Derek attacked me? That your heart didn't break when I was alive again, when Lydia cured me?"

"My heart was broken for a _completely_ different reason than you being alive and you know it!" he shouts at Jackson, getting away from the sink, and stopping in front of Jackson, glaring, "You have no _idea_ what I had been through that night, and I went along Scott's plan, didn't I? I was trying to save you too by the end of it, even if I thought it wouldn't work! Who do you think took Lydia there? The werewolf fairy?" his voice is rising, and his hands are in fists by his side.

"Yeah, but you weren't there to save _me_, Stiles, you were there for her!" Jackson accuses, and Stiles actually laughs bitterly.

"And you weren't? When you accepted to die, do you think I didn't see you nodding to Derek? That we didn't realize you were giving your consent? Who were you doing it for, Jackson, me? No! It was for _her_! Because she loved you and she saved you, and then both of us broke her heart! It doesn't mean it was your fault what those crazy psychopaths made you do! Stop blaming yourself for the things you have no fault over, and start thinking about the things that you _do_, like letting her go away without even saying goodbye, because you were so lost into your own werewolf pity-angst party!"

"Okay!" Danny shouts, and they break away from their angry stare down to look at the other boy, who's staring at them as if they're crazy – which they probably are, but oh well -, "I really don't think I even get what you were talking about just now, but the gist of it is that Jackson turned into something that killed people because a Master controlled him?" he stares at Jackson while he talks, and the blond nods begrudgingly, "That's why you were so strange? The night of the game, telling me to stay away from you?"

Jackson nods again.

"I knew something bad would happen that night. Matt was dead, and Gerard was the one…" he doesn't say it, just lets out a deep breath, "I just wanted you and Lydia safe."

"You almost killed yourself. You _actually_ killed yourself" the boy whispers, staring at Jackson in a mix of sadness and incomprehension.

"It was a distraction" the blond says, "Gerard was trying to get Stiles" he admits, and even Stiles looks surprised at that.

"You _knew_ what he was planning?" his voice is quiet and betrayed. If Jackson had _known_ why didn't he let Stiles know? Or Scott?

"Not really. I could… fight it for short periods of time. I was aware he wanted to get you out of there, I knew he would make me try and kill myself, and yet I didn't. I had the knowledge, but I couldn't… realize it. It's complicated" he says just as quietly, and looks down.

Wow, they have crap to get through.

Once again, Danny brings them back to the point.

"So, this Kanima thing kills a lot of people, but the bad guy is gone, and then… you were cured?" he says, as if he doesn't think that's the answer.

"Lydia's _love_ cured him" Stiles says, looking at Danny with a sardonic smile, "And then they are having a love-fest, and he _bites me_, and marks me as his mate, and here we are. Short version, without Peter coming back from the dead, me getting beat up by a guy four times my age, my dad losing his job, or Scott having a brain for once. Also without Allison going psycho-killer on _everyone_."

Danny is, apparently, stunned into silence once more. He keeps on looking at Stiles and then at Jackson, as if he can't quite figure if they are trying to lie to him.

"The Kanima is actually a lizard" Stiles comments, just to break the silence, "Jackson was a lizard and then a wolf. Three species he's been, if you count human as the base of it. It's pretty impressive" he shrugs when he finishes speaking, and Danny gets up.

"I need…" he says, shaking his head, and Jackson looks down, "I just need some time, okay? I'll be…" he says and turns to leave, but Stiles stops him with a hand on his arm.

"Look, go to my room, or my dad's office, or whatever, but stay inside. The Alpha Pack is here, and we're all in danger. Don't get out of the house."

Danny laughs a tiny bit hysterically at that but nods and leaves.

The uncomfortable silence is back, and Stiles sits on the chair Danny's just vacated and puts his head in his hands.

"You really don't blame me for their deaths?"

Jackson's voice is strange. It's… broken. And hopeful. When Stiles looks at him, he sees the blonde's face is cautious, as if he's waiting for Stiles to tell him that yes, he blames him. That he only said all of that so that Danny wouldn't freak out.

"I really don't. Yes, I thought about killing you, or letting you die, but it wasn't _you,_ Jackson. I was afraid. We all were. My dad was out there every single day, fighting something he had no idea what it was, and the Kanima was dangerous – not because of _you_, but because of its masters. I was afraid. People who are afraid usually do stupid things."

Jackson is silent again, and Stiles takes his chance to actually _say_ things to the blond without having to fight for an opportunity.

"I do blame you for the way things turned out with Lydia, though" he says, and Jackson shakes his head, looking at Stiles exasperatedly.

"Derek told you I couldn't control my…"

"Not that!" he interrupts, and Jackson stares at him without understanding form a moment, "Not the bite. I get that. But she does love you, Jackson. She truly did. Maybe she still does. And you didn't even say goodbye to her. And I know it was tough for you, that those days were difficult, and my denial thing didn't help, and I know that now, I can see it, but you hurt her when you could have helped it, and you didn't even once thought about apologizing. You were self-centered and selfish, and she didn't deserve that. You didn't see her the night she thought you were dead. She was falling apart, and you just let her out of your life without a single goodbye."

"I figured if she hated me – if she hated _us_ – it'd be easier for her" Jackson ends up saying, and Stiles shakes his head.

"She doesn't deserve that. Neither do I," they look at each other for a moment, and Stiles snorts, "You don't deserve it either."

Jackson looks down with a strange smirk on his lips.

"No, we really don't."

The silence is back, but Stiles doesn't break it.

Eventually Stiles gets up and goes to the living room – Isaac is watching a movie on TV, still in the armchair he had sat before, and Stiles sits on the couch.

A few minutes later Jackson gets into the room, and sits beside Stiles, silently.

They watch the movie, and pretend they don't know Danny is having a mental breakdown upstairs. They also pretend they aren't counting the seconds until the others are back.

It's a few long hours, but somehow they manage.

They are getting really good at that too.

The movie ends, and another one begins, and that one is almost over when they finally hear cars getting in the driveway – or Isaac and Jackson hear it, and the way they perk up a tiny little bit like dogs makes Stiles smile and know the others are here.

"I'll go get Danny" he says, going upstairs.

He really doesn't know how the other boy is going to be, and he hopes for the best, because they don't have room for a freaking out human right now.

He usually freaks out before or after a crisis, never in the middle of it. It's been working for them, they are still alive – some of them are actually back from the dead! – so he figures Danny is going to have to adapt or drown.

It's not something he wants to have to _say_, though.

He knocks on the door of his own room and enters without waiting for an answer. Danny is on his bed, looking at the ceiling.

"Just… how do you do it? How are you _not_ in a straight jacket right now?" the boy asks him without looking down, and Stiles sighs, closing the door behind him.

"I didn't have the time yet" he says brightly, and Danny looks at him, unimpressed, "Look, we deal with it because we have to. We are still alive, and that's good, and it's all that matters. None of ours have died yet, except for Peter, but _we_ killed him ourselves, and he's back anyway. We didn't mean to have you caught up in the middle of this, and for all that it's worth, if you want out of this when this Alpha Pack business is over, you can get out of it. You can forget all of this, and go back to living in that comfy world where werewolves are just shaggy overgrown dogs who try to steal the girlfriends of vampires, okay?" Danny finally sits on the bed, and Stiles looks at him, a serious look on his face, "But Jackson can't. Just like Scott can't. And like I can't. Scott is my best friend, and I can't let him deal with this shit on his own. Even if Jackson wasn't my mate, I would be there, with the pack, when the next wave of crazy hits the town. You can walk away, but Jackson can't. And I think he needs you. God knows Scott does need me, and he isn't _half_ as messed up as Jackson is. I don't think I can do Jackson half the good you can, and I'm his mate. He loves you, you are more family to him than his own parents, and you know that. He needs you."

Danny stares at Stiles or a long moment, before getting up and snorting.

"You're just saying that because you don't want to have to deal with him by yourself."

Stiles smiles at that.

"I really don't" he answers, and they go downstairs.

It's not the best answer, but there's still hope.

Downstairs, all the others are sitting in the living room. Isaac has left the armchair for the floor – the Sheriff is now on the armchair, Scott and Isaac by his feet, while Peter and Derek are leaning against the windowsill, side by side. Danny, Jackson and Stiles sit on the couch, Stiles in between them, because Danny pulls him to the middle. Jackson looks a bit hurt, but hides it fast enough that Danny doesn't see it – or maybe he does but chooses not to comment on it.

"We hid the body in the woods. Scott called, and the Sheriff got there okay, no one suspected anything" Derek says as an opening, and the Sheriff snorts.

"Which makes me wonder how good Stiles is exactly at covering trails of crimes" he mutters, and Stiles looks down, truly embarrassed.

His dad is never going to trust him again after this.

Jackson, strangely enough, takes one of his hands in his, and squeezes, as if sensing his discomfort.

He doesn't let it go either, but Stiles is not going to complain right now.

"The Alpha Pack sent Boyd's body as a warning. They are here, and they will do what they are meant to do" Derek says, and Scott tilts his head to the side.

"But what _do_ they want?" he asks.

"To eliminate all incompetent packs" Peter says with a smirk, "That's their function, that's why they exist. They go around killing the ones who attract too much attention from hunters or humans who aren't pack. The kill the pack, usually taking one of the pack with them, if this one is willing to kill the incompetent Alpha and become an Alpha themselves, and then commit their life to hunting and killing the packs who aren't worthy in their eyes" the ex-dead body explains, and Stiles frowns.

"Derek isn't incompetent, he's new at this" he defends the man who looks at him, surprise written all over his eyebrows, "What? It's true! You could be way worse then you are, and we're all alive. Maybe we aren't going to win any prizes at the Pack Fair, but we're good enough to still be alive" he finishes shrugging, but Peter is shaking his head.

"That's not how they work. Boyd and Erica ran away. A human who is immune got away from the pack knowing pretty much all of our secrets. One of the bitten wolves was a Kanima before turning, and when he did, he marked a mate without his consent. That same Kanima killed a whole unit of deputies. This pack has attracted the attention of every single hunter clan in the _country_, and the Argents have lost all their heads in their fight against us. They've lost Kate, who was supposed to be the next leader, they've lost Victoria, and now they've lost Allison, who is currently having all kinds of mental breakdowns. There's a limit of weird that can be let go, but we kind of exceeded that when I came back to life."

There's silence in the room again, and Stiles looks around.

All the wolves look pretty much defeated already, looking down – Isaac and Scott -, or glaring at Derek – Jackson.

"Okay, but what about the humans?" Stiles's dad asks, and everyone looks at him, "Stiles and Danny and Lydia. They are safe, right? They aren't wolves" the way he says it seems as if that's all that matters to him, and Stiles can see the others are surprised by this – by a John Stilinski who can actually only care about his son, and not about all of the others.

Did they really think one gets to Sheriff without being tough and a bit ruthless sometimes? Did they really think Stiles gets his more cold tendencies of wishing Derek or Jackson were dead from his mom or something?

"They are _pack_" Peter almost snarls, "Maybe not Danny yet, but Lydia and Stiles are way too involved to walk free. We die, they die. So you might as well stop thinking up ways of offering us up to the Alphas, because your son will die with us."

The Sheriff doesn't answer to that, not even to deny it.

And the silence is back.

"Okay…" Stiles starts, "So, we know what they want, and we know how they'll act. Do we have any clue of what they've done to Erica yet?"

No one answers.

"Right. Any ideas on how to defeat them?"

"We have no chance against them physically. Our best fighters are Boyd and Scott, and Boyd is gone. Isaac is fast, but against an Alpha he doesn't stand a chance. Scott doesn't either, not really. I could take one of them, but there's five of them and one of me, and even if Scott, Isaac and Jackson were to go against another one, that's two of them down and three to go" Derek tells them, as if he's thought about it a thousand times before.

Whoa, they really are getting into this already knowing they are going to lose.

"That's cheerful" Stiles mutters.

"Well, we can't beat them by brute force, but we can outsmart them" Peter says, and Stiles frowns at him.

"Hold your horses there, Scar, what do you mean?"

Peter quirks a small smile at the reference, and looks at everyone in the room.

"We can't beat them in a fight, but we can outsmart them. One of us can go to them, knowing what we know, and offer to kill Derek in exchange of maybe a few lives, and going away with them. Most wolves would do it just for the Alpha status alone. When they buy it, this person will work with them, and then betray them from the inside."

"How is that supposed to work? And who would we send?" Scott questions, and Peter smirks.

"Why, me, of course!" Peter replies, "Who better at betrayal than the guy who _was_ an Alpha already? I could be thirsting for my power back, revenge against the nephew who killed me. Then I go to them, they take me into their fold, and I poison them. Easy."

There's silence in the room _again_, but it's not afraid or awkward, it's _incredulous_.

Because, well, it's _Peter_.

"How the hell would we know you _wouldn't_ sell us anyway?!" Stiles almost shouts, "You were the bad guy once, Claudius, we can't _trust_ you!"

Peter raises an eyebrow at him.

"Would that make you Nala or Ofelia, Stiles?"

"That'd make me Timon, okay? Just, we can't do this!" he gets up from the couch and looks at Derek, "Tell me we're not doing this? He's so going to kill you, Derek, I don't want him as my alpha! And how are you going to poison them anyway?"

"I have my ways" Peter says simply, and Stiles stares at Derek.

He's the only one _fighting_ this, why?

Derek doesn't answer straight away, and Stiles waves his arms around.

"_SERIOUSLY_, why is no one else arguing this?!" he asks the room at large, and Scott shrugs.

"Honestly? Cause you're the one who can maybe argue your way into Peter's logic, so" the teen shrugs, and Stiles sits back down, a bit defeated.

They're doomed.

This time they are actually doomed.

"I won't decide anything right now. Stay safe, and stay inside. Together. I don't want any of you alone right now" Derek orders, and leaves, Peter trailing after him, still smirking.

Stiles looks at the other wolves expectantly.

"No one is going to say anything? Really?"

"What _do_ you have against Peter anyway?" Danny asks, intrigued, and Stiles faces him.

"You really don't want to know" he answers, and Danny stares at him for a moment, before nodding.

"Okay."

Apparently he's decided he doesn't want any more crazy in his life.

Jackson and Danny decide to go to Danny's house for the night. Isaac and Scott are staying with Stiles.

Their goodbyes are awkward, because Stiles feels like he should talk to Jackson some more, but right now they can't.

They nod at each other awkwardly, and the blond leaves with his best friend.

Stiles goes up to his room when his dad goes to his study, no doubt to try and find some courage or peace in a bottle of whisky, and Scott and Isaac stay in the living room.

Damn day that just won't end.

**X**

Awkward doesn't even begin to describe the state of things right now, but Jackson calls his parents letting them know he's staying at Danny's that night.

The other boy hasn't said a word to him yet, and Jackson doesn't know if he should talk to him, or just give him space.

He's never been good at this emotional stuff, he never really had to do it before – Danny ignored him until he got normal, and Lydia just pretended nothing was happening. But now Stiles is all over the place, and Danny is mad or sad or whatever, and he doesn't know how to deal with this.

Plus, they are all going to be dead soon. He helped torch Peter once, there's no way the guy is actually going to help them.

They get ready for bed, and Jackson takes a deep breath, taking in Stiles scent. Danny catches him doing it and smiles a bit, shaking his head.

He doesn't say anything when he turns off the lights and goes to bed, Jackson on a mattress by it.

"He's good for you" Danny says, about fifteen minutes after he turns off the lights, and Jackson turns on his side, looking at his friend in the darkness.

"You think?" he asks, and Danny nods – he probably doesn't even know Jackson can see him.

"Yeah, I do. I know you loved Lydia, Jackson, but she… You would have always been in her shadow. She made it so easy for you, and you were so comfortable in that. When you broke up with her, I knew it wasn't going to last" he makes a pause, as if measuring what he's about to say, "You were poison together, Jackson. You made her try and demean herself for your benefit, so you'd look good, and you'd try and be this jerk type all the time, because you thought that's what she wanted. You two were only ever happy when you were _alone_ together, and in public you'd put up this façade, it was wrong. He can be good for you. He can make you find yourself, because he won't let you settle for anything else" another pause, this one longer, and Jackson hears Danny sighing, "You can make this work."

"If we live long enough to do it" Jackson comments, and Danny snorts.

"Well, there's that."

They fall silent after that, but Jackson feels a little lighter knowing Danny approves of Stiles this much.

Maybe it'll be okay.

He hopes to everything that exists that it will be okay.

He can't bear to think otherwise.

* * *

**Aaaaaaaaand another one, to try and compensate for the days I didn't post. I won't promise any chapters for the week, but I'll try to get some more out, okay?**

**Thank you for reading, and let me know what you think!**

**REVIEW!**


	14. because staying still isn't an option

**I don't think there are words enough to stress how sorry I am for not updating this sooner. I really am sorry. **

**Thank you so much for sticking with me.**

**I hope you guys enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

**Keep Walking**

**because staying still isn't an option**

"You think they'll go with this plan?" Isaac whispers just as they hear Stiles's door closing, and Scott sighs in answer.

"I don't know. It kind of seems like it's the only one we've got. This Alpha Pack thing sounds really dangerous."

"But… wasn't Peter your enemy at some point? Didn't Derek actually _kill_ him? And now we're going to trust him with this?"

Isaac's voice is incredulous and just the tiniest bit afraid. They have everything to lose now. They are a pack, and they are being threatened, and if they don't deal with this very, very carefully, they were all going to die.

Scott decides not to answer to that. He just lets out a harsh breath and burrows a little deeper into the couch he's sitting on. He doesn't have the answers, and if there's _one_ good thing about him being in Derek's pack – apart from the whole mate-situation, but he doesn't want to think about that yet – is that it's not for him to make decisions anymore. He doesn't have to think things through, he doesn't need to have all the answers – hell, he doesn't need to have _any_ answer.

Maybe he'd be a good leader, maybe he has the potential, but truth is that's never what he wanted. He doesn't want to have a pack he has to _lead_: he wants to have a pack he can count on, depend on, be happy with.

Maybe, just maybe, be normal with.

Which seems more and more unlikely with every passing second, but, hey, hope is the last to die, right?

"Didn't it bother you?" Isaac says after a few minutes in silence, and Scott looks at him inquisitively, not getting it, "Stiles saying we are _all_ alive. That _none_ of us was harmed, that _no one_ died. Boyd is dead. For all we know, Erica is too."

"They were never Stiles's pack, though" Scott says, and Isaac _stares_ at him.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that Erica beat him up with a part of his own car and dropped him in a dumpster, and Boyd never looked at him with anything but contempt. Sure, he protected you guys at the rave and all, but he did that because he _had_ to. Because he knew we _had_ to. For Stiles, I was his pack. Me, and Lydia, and maybe Derek? His dad. My mom. I don't know that he'd die to protect anyone else, and, honestly? He's counting the people he _cares_ about as not being harmed. He's coming up ahead because that's how he is."

"That's harsh" Isaac comments, looking down, and Scott shrugs.

"That's Stiles. He's not a Disney princess. Jackson has no _idea_ how bad he has it" Scott finishes with a small, playful smirk, and Isaac answers it in kind before they fall into a companionable silence.

It's getting easier, this being around Isaac thing. They can't afford to think about them as a couple yet, not until this threat of the Alpha Pack is cleared, but it doesn't seem quite so _hard_ now.

It doesn't feel like a punishment anymore.

It's probably the sense of imminent death that does it, but Scott will take what he can get.

It seems to be what everyone else is doing anyway.

**X**

Jackson can't seem to fall asleep. He just can't. He tries to close his eyes, and just let the night wash over him, and finally lose consciousness, and he can't do it.

He _needs_ Stiles.

It seems like a lifetime away, but just that afternoon his _mate_ was all about hating him. They had fought harshly, and the worst of it all was that they meant what they had said. Stiles's heart didn't stutter _once_ when he was saying how little he thought of Jackson, and truth is that Jackson actually _was_ pissed that Stiles wasn't just thrilled that he was Jackson's mate.

The body in his backyard brought them both some perspective, but now that the imminent threat is sinking in, now that the actual situation is dealt with and they have to _plan_, he kind of wants to… be near Stiles. Be _with_ him. He needs to, like an actual physical need.

He turns on his side once more, and realizes it's almost three in the morning. Danny is so quiet by his side, but Jackson notices his breathing isn't quite as relaxed as before – hasn't been in a while, actually.

"Danny?" he whispers, "Are you awake?"

"Your eyes glow in the dark" his best friend answers, his voice a tired, hushed whisper.

"Sorry" Jackson answers, before sighing, "I can't sleep. I have to… I have to see him. I'm scared for him, how crazy is that? I need… I need to be with him" he finishes miserably, and Danny sighs again.

"Just go, Jackson."

"I can't. I'm not leaving you alone after everything we've seen today, and after Peter said they are out to kill us all."

When he finishes speaking, Jackson actually gets up and turns on the light, putting his – Stiles's, actually – clothes back on.

"Come on, we'll leave a note for your mom, and then we'll head to Stiles's place."

Danny looks for half a second as if he wants to argue, but then seems to think better of it, and gets out of bed, shaking his head. He gathers a few pieces of clothing, but doesn't take off his pajamas.

"I'm going like this, because I actually plan on sleeping" he says, and they leave quietly, a note on the kitchen table, so Danny's mom won't be alarmed if she wakes up.

The drive to Stiles's house is quiet and so very nervous. It should be a fifteen minute drive, tops, but Jackson keeps on expecting something to show up from behind a bush, or an actual Alpha to come to the middle of the street and turn his car over, eating both of them.

It's really unnerving.

When they finally get there, he doesn't even have to knock – Scott is already opening the door, with an inquisitive look on his face.

"It didn't feel safe there" Danny explains, and Jackson is grateful. He sucks at lying, and he'd die before he said that he couldn't sleep before because he didn't have Stiles with him.

It's pathetic and sad and all kinds of wrong.

It's also the truth.

Scott shrugs and lets them in, talking quietly.

"The Sheriff left about half an hour ago. He was supposed to be in the night shift, anyway, so it's just us. Derek called a while ago, letting us know they didn't find Erica yet, and they were done looking for the night. He said we should get some sleep" he explains, pointing to where Isaac is lying down on the couch, a few pillows and blankets around him.

"Where's Stiles?" Jackson asks, even if he can hear his mate's heartbeat, fast but steady, coming from his own bedroom.

"Upstairs. He offered us a bed, but I thought it better to leave him alone for a bit. Plus, Isaac pointed out you'd freak out if his room smelled like us, so" Scott doesn't say anything else, and smiles a little at the end of it, but Jackson doesn't answer to the teasing or say anything.

He looks at Danny, and his best friend sighs and finds an unoccupied couch, stealing a blanket and a pillow from Isaac, settling in for the night.

Jackson turns their back on them, and goes to Stiles room. He can practically _feel _Scott wishing to stop him, but then Lahey calls him, and Scott gives up.

He takes in a deep breath, and opens the door to his mate's room noiselessly.

Stiles is sprawled on the bed, taking up as much space as possible. His head is turned to the side, one of his hands curled up on the pillow, the other stretched on his side. His legs are under a blanket, and he's breathing rhythmically and deeply. Truly asleep.

Jackson gets in and closes the door, breathing in deeply – the whole room smells like Stiles, and Stiles alone.

His mate.

His… companion for his whole lifetime, his very own destined true love, like some corny fairytale movie, in which he has no say. The idea doesn't cause him as much rebellion as it had before – before five days without seeing him or smelling his scent. It doesn't seem quite _true_ yet, as if he's just waiting for something to happen and change it all, for someone to figure out they went wrong, and this is not how it's supposed to happen.

For something to go very right, or very wrong, and for them to be free of each other again.

The truth is that for all that he gripes and threatens and complains about _Stiles_ not accepting _them_, he hasn't either.

Hadn't, at least.

He takes a few steps in, and sits on the floor, his head in level with Stiles's, just watching. Watching his _mate_, the boy who's human and yet is part of a wolf pack, who could be a werewolf but chose not to, someone who could have had him killed, but didn't just because he wants to _try_ and save everyone before he has to give up on them.

Someone who kidnapped him and stole a Police vehicle just so Jackson wouldn't harm anyone, and wouldn't be killed by Derek.

Stiles had so much more to lose than he did. He was so right about so many things he had said that afternoon about Jackson, so completely spot on that _hurt_. Because when someone hates you for who you pretend to be, for a persona, an image, a fake façade you put up in school and in the team, that is one thing.

But when your _mate_ despises you for everything you _really are_? That is the kind of thing that makes you think.

Stiles is his. He's willing to try – and Jackson is not stupid, this willingness won't last forever. He has to get his act together, and soon. The fact that they may be dead in a few days, as bad as it is, is actually his chance to show Stiles he can be better. He can change. He can _deal_ with things, and maybe he can learn to accept that he will not have control over everything, always. That he is loved by his parents, that he doesn't have to be the best in every single thing to deserve to be loved.

Hell, Stiles is not better than anyone at anything as far as he knows, and everyone cares about him. His dad, Scott, Derek, Peter, Isaac – even Danny. Damn, even Lydia! And he didn't have to try and beat other people up, he didn't have to be a jerk, he didn't have to show everyone up.

He was just… himself – and that is the ridiculousness of it all: for all that Jackson is great and awesome and damn well near _perfect_, being himself is something he doesn't even know how to be.

He never let things just _be_, he always chose to be what would impress people the most – his dead parents, his adoptive parents, his teachers, his teammates, his girlfriend. He actually thought he could do the same for Stiles, win him over with the same MO, but after everything was said and done this afternoon, just now he's getting what Stiles was trying to say: to get him, to actually _have_ a chance with his mate, all he has to do is _be_.

Himself. Nothing else.

And it's the most difficult thing Jackson has ever faced, because if he didn't know who he was _before_, now he actually thinks that he doesn't want to find out.

God, he's such a mess.

He doesn't realize that Stiles's eyes are actually staring at him until the boy sighs deeply, and mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like "creep".

"I didn't mean to wake you up" he says as an excuse, and Stiles sighs again, moving around the bed so he can look at Jackson properly, without having to sit.

"It's okay. I thought you were at Danny's" he says, his eyes almost closed again, his voice rough and quiet with sleep.

"I couldn't sleep. He's downstairs with McCall and Lahey."

"Good. You didn't leave him alone, that's good."

Stiles doesn't say anything else, and Jackson tries not to make any noise. He really doesn't want to fight or create another problem between them – he just wants to… hear Stiles's heartbeat for a while. Listen to him breathing. See him asleep and calm. He just… needs this for a bit. Just a bit.

Suddenly Stiles's eyes are open again.

"You plan on looking at me from the floor all night?" his voice is a bit annoyed, and Jackson doesn't even know how to answer to that, because, honestly, what _would_ be a good answer to that?

Stiles sighs again, and scoots over to one side of the bed, as opposed to being sprawled like before.

"Come on" he says, and Jackson is a bit dubious – his whole stunt with staying on Stiles all night coming to his mind.

He doesn't want a repeat of that.

"I can't sleep with you looking at me all night, Jackson, and you should sleep too. Keep to your side of the bed, and you are on top of the covers. If I catch you snuggling up to me I'll yell for my dad, and he'll shoot you. I swear he will" his eyes are already closing when he finishes speaking, and Jackson smiles a bit, not pointing out the Sheriff isn't even home, but he gets it.

Quietly, he gets into the bed, staying on top of the blanket, a small empty space between him and Stiles. He settles down a bit, and listens for Stiles breathing, his heartbeat evening out until he's sure the boy is asleep.

He looks at him, pale and thin, fragile and so very, very human, and something inside him _aches_ to make things better somehow. He feels as if he's failing at everything with him, and this is killing him.

Very slowly, he reaches out one of his hands and puts it over one of Stiles's. The other boy doesn't stir or complain, so Jackson counts that as a win.

And then finally, _finally_, he feels safe enough to sleep.

**X**

They wake up to a loud _bang_ of a door being shut, and a loud curse – actually, _multiple_ loud curses. Jackson's fangs are half out, and his eyes are glowing blue as he scans the room for threats, and Stiles shakes his head, getting out of the bed and going downstairs, feeling Jackson following him.

When he gets to the living room, he finds Isaac and Scott glaring at a pale Derek, who's is just a few steps away from the door he obviously closed. Danny is staring wide eyed at the Alpha, and Peter is nowhere to be found.

"What's going on?" Stiles asks, still a bit fuzzy with sleep, but Derek's quiet and raging stance is weird enough that he can't stand _not_ asking.

"Erica was found" Derek replies, his eyes flashing red, and he manages to look miserable and enraged, all at once, "Her body was found, wounds just like Boyd's."

"Where?" Isaac asks in a whisper, and Derek looks down, shaking his head.

"The Alphas aren't just sending us a message about the _pack_. They were sensing us a guideline. Something they want us to do" Peter finally says, coming, strangely enough, from the kitchen, "They are showing us the problems, they are pointing us to the way to correct our pack, and live."

"What the hell do you mean?" Stiles asks angrily, because he thinks he's actually getting this, and he doesn't like where this is going one bit.

"They left a message at the house this morning, before dawn. They are pointing our mistakes, and telling us to correct them" Peter explains.

"What do you mean _correct_?" Scott asks, looking scared.

"_I_ don't mean anything. What _they_ mean is kill. We kill our problems, they let the rest of us in peace."

Stiles doesn't have to be a werewolf to feel Jackson's heart skipping a bit at this.

He's not the only one getting this.

"So what? They killed Boyd and Erica, isn't that it?" Scott insists, and Peter shakes his head. Derek looks _lost_, and doesn't even raise his head as his uncle talks.

"No. They left us the bodies at the places the ones they want _us_ to eliminate live" he looks at Jackson, and Stiles suddenly feels a bit protective. He doesn't like Jackson yet, but he doesn't deserve to _die_.

"Where did they leave Erica's body?" Danny asks, looking terrified.

"Lydia Martin's house" Derek says in a growl.

"The Kanima and the Immune who made it happen. We kill them? We're golden" Peter says with a smirk.

They are screwed, is all Stiles can think.

* * *

**REVIEW!**


	15. towards the trouble

**Keep Walking**

**towards the trouble**

"What happens when we kill them?" Stiles asks, his voice a bit startled and confused, as if he's not sure what he's asking. He seems distracted to everyone in the room, and Jackson actually whimpers when he hears _his mate_ ask that question, because for a moment there he actually thought _they could work._

When no one answers, Stiles looks around the room and sees wide eyes staring at him from everywhere – even Peter looks a bit startled.

"The _ALPHAS_, you bunch of insensitive, irrational beasts! Jesus Christ, you'd think you guys would know me better than to say okay to killing Lydia Martin. And my mate. What happens when we kill all of the Alphas, do they grow back, is it a bigger group than the one we have here, are they going to come here and demand retribution, what happens when they are dead?"

Again, no answer, but it's a different kind of silence now.

A considering one.

"Seriously, it's become quite clear we don't have any other options, and Peter's evil plan for world domination won't work. We have to make this happen, and fast. There'll be no killing of anyone in the Hale Pack. These Alpha douches just have to go."

"It'd be a show of strength. No other Pack would bother us for quite a while, actually, _if_ we could pull that off. Which we can't, because they are five Alphas, working together and in harmony for _years_, and we are a ragtag bunch of teenagers who can't barely stop arguing long enough to breathe, let alone fight such a well-prepared, capable, powerful Pack of Alphas" Peter says, and Stiles stares at him, unimpressed.

"Wow, Peter, do tell us how you really feel about your pack. Don't feel bad about being all warm and fuzzy on us", Stiles replies, his tone showing his annoyance.

Peter looks at Stiles for a moment, and then turns to Derek, his face a mask of fond irritation.

"If I had bitten _that_ kid, he'd be the Alpha of this pack, you know that, right?"

Derek doesn't deign him with an answer, sighing and visibly trying to restrain himself from going out and trying to take down the Alpha Pack all by himself – and getting himself killed in the process.

"Stiles is right, though. We have to kill them and end this. There's no other way."

"There's killing Jackson and Lydia" Peter points out in a whisper, and Jackson and Stiles actually _growl_ at him – which is ridiculous, and just a tiny bit endearing, because Stiles's growl sounds just like a kitten's, but Jackson isn't going to think about that now.

"Didn't you just say that killing them would be a show of strength?" Danny asks, and all the others turn to look at him, "If getting them killed is a show of strength, then doing what they want you to do would be a show of weakness. Everything that _exists_ would feel entitled to come and attack you guys", he points out rationally, and Derek nods at him.

"Exactly. We're not killing _Pack_. That's not how we work" Derek says, and Peter looks at him with a faint smirk.

"Did you rewrite the guidelines these past few weeks? Because I clearly remember Stiles throwing a Molotov at me, Scott helping his then-girlfriend ignite it, and Jackson throwing another one, just for giggles. Also, I remember you ripping my throat out. Funny how now it's we don't kill pack."

No one actually answers to that.

"Well, this is awkward" Stiles points out, passing Jackson, and getting to the living room. The other boy follows him, and Stiles runs a hand over his head, "Does anyone wants breakfast? Also, how long did they give us?"

"Two days. Counting from the first body being _found_, which was yesterday afternoon, so we have until tomorrow afternoon to do something. After that, they come after us, to wipe us out" Peter supplies gleefully, and Jackson feels as if he's starting to lose it.

He doesn't really think he can handle this shit anymore, it's just… there's no ending to the craziness! It's one thing after the other, and he rues the day he actually thought being a werewolf would be a _good_ thing! It's not!

"Jackson?" Stiles voice startles him from his internal freak out, and he tries to focus on him for the moment, "Are you okay?"

He wants to look at Stiles and tell him he's great. A death threat directed straight at _him_ is just the way to begin his day, but he can't quite find his voice, so he just takes in a deep breath and nods.

Stiles doesn't really look like he _believes _him, but the boy lets it go, turning to the rest of their… pack.

"So, who's gonna help me with breakfast?" he asks, motioning to the kitchen, and Scott is the first to follow. Isaac looks on the verge of tears when he goes into the kitchen, and Jackson remembers that he, Boyd and Erica were a pack for longer than all the others – except for Scott and Stiles, that is. Danny is next, and then Derek. Jackson looks to the side, and sees Peter watching him, a small smirk on his lips.

He hurries into the kitchen too, after that.

Everyone is jittery and visibly freaking out, but Stiles keeps a string of commentary that never ceases. He talks about the weather, about pancakes, about the bacon he's putting on the pan, and about the origins of yogurt. He keeps on babbling all the freaking time, and Scott, at some point, starts replying, and suddenly, his mate's best friend looks a little less freaked out.

A little less as if he's going to die soon.

Together they pull Isaac into the conversation, and the boy who was once shy starts answering them back, helping around when he can. Together, the three of them drive Derek annoyed enough that he starts correcting some assumptions they all seem to have about werewolves in movies, and Stiles's smile turns less maniac, less fearful and more teasing. When Danny finally starts joining in the long stream of subjects coming out of Stiles's mouth, that's when Jackson can practically _feel_ Stiles starting to freak out less too.

He looks at his mate to find him sneaking a glance at him too, and he tries to smile at him, just to put him at ease a bit.

And that's when he gets another part of Stiles he hadn't thought of so far. He's never really stopped to think that Stiles would be the kind of person who's good to have around in a moment of crisis – he's too loud and obnoxious, but then he realizes that him being loud is actually _helping_ right now. He's trying to give all of them a sense of normalcy so that when they'll actually stop to think about a plan, a way to attack the Alpha Pack and _succeed_, they'll have their heads right, and not freaking out like they were fifteen minutes ago.

He's not perfect, but he's good. A good person, with a mean streak a mile wide, but still – good enough that he's not taking the easy way out, and letting Jackson _die_.

He refuses to think about the fact that Lydia had come first in Stiles's refusal of letting them die, but still. He could be rid of them.

_They_ could be rid of _him_.

And yet they are willing to fight, and probably die, then let him go without a fight.

He can't remember the last time he actually _trusted_ someone to do that. Not Lydia. Not even Danny, because while they are best friends, he's never really thought Danny would _die_ for him.

He is… a part of them. He actually is.

He's never even realized how much he _wanted_ to be a part of something, how much he _missed_ this, until this second, when he realizes he can actually have it.

All he has to do now is find a way to remain alive long enough to enjoy it.

**X**

"Where the hell is Peter?" Stiles asks as soon as the food is done, and everyone is trying to find a place at the table to eat.

Except for Derek, who's broodingly leaning against the doorsill.

"He left the moment you started cooking" the Alpha answers him, and Stiles frowns at the werewolf.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just insult my cooking abilities for the sake of the crisis we're having" it's his answer, as he shoves a too large piece of pancake in his mouth.

He's worried.

He's worried sick, because if there was a time when he freaked out before about his chances at surviving whatever came their way, it's nothing compared to _knowing_ the Alphas _could_ just come and kill him.

Not a single problem in doing that.

He and Danny are the ones most at risk, if he stops to think about it, because all of the others can actually try and fight, but them? What do they have? Knowledge in computers and research skills aren't going to win them any friends once the killing spree starts, and then what will they do? Hide behind Jackson?

Not good odds.

Not good odds at all.

He wants to ask Derek for a plan, any plan. He wants to know Scott will fight for them till his last breath, he wants to know Isaac won't skip on them like Erica and Boyd did, he wants to be _sure_ Jackson won't freak out and run on them – and he can't.

He can't do any of these things, because there's no _way_ they can have a plan this fast.

Actually, he's feeling that there's _no_ _way_ they're winning this.

He takes a deep breath and tries very hard to _ignore_ all of it, at least until he's alone. He can't be seen panicking, because that will freak Scott out, which will then freak Isaac out, and that will make Derek all growly and trying to be threatening so he can get his way, and Jackson will probably fall apart.

It's not really ignoring the problem until it goes away, it's just… not acknowledging it until he has the peace and quiet enough to deal with it on his own.

They eat, and they talk, and they even linger around a coffee pot, but there's only so much stalling that can be done before someone has to come out and say it.

"What are we going to do, Derek? For real?" he asks when he can't take the sense of impending doom anymore.

Derek looks around the table, and Stiles actually looks at them too.

Scott is pale, but looking determined. Isaac has a hold of Scott's hand, and looks like he'll die before he lets go – and, oh my god. He won't think about what _that_ means right now, but oh my god – Danny is practically shaking on his seat, but he hasn't freaked out too much yet, so it's a good sign.

And Jackson… Jackson looks uncertain and lost, and… little. As if he's afraid that when he blinks everyone will decide they are better off without him. Tentatively, he reaches out a hand and takes one of Jackson's with it, grasping it tightly – he's a werewolf, he can take it.

None of them looks at it, or acknowledge it out loud, and they stay, looking at Derek again.

"We don't have a chance with a plan. No matter what we try to do, or whatever we try to make, we can't win if _we_ engage them in a fight."

"Which means we can't try and take them out _before_ the date they gave us, or they'll know we won't kill members of our pack, and therefore they'll start killing us sooner" Stiles completes, and Derek nods.

"What we'll do… what we _can_ do, is be ready for tomorrow afternoon. We'll meet at the house, we'll be ready to fight, and we'll fight until we win."

Or until we lose and each and all of us are dead, Stiles completes in his head, but he doesn't say it out loud.

"You should be safe until then" Derek continues, "They won't attack any of us before the time they set. Just… rest for today. And be ready."

He doesn't say anything else, and just leaves after that – Stiles can swear he's never seen Derek looking this defeated.

Hell, they truly are doomed.

Scott looks at him, and Stiles manages a small smirk.

"Do you have to go home?" he asks, and Scott nods.

"I have to go and calm my mom down. She must be freaking out."

"Are you going to tell her?"

Scott makes that face that makes him look like a puppy, and Stiles shakes his head at the besotted look on Isaac's face then.

"No. She doesn't need to worry about this, right?"

Which translates to 'there's nothing any of us can do, because we're screwed', but oh well.

"Your mate going with you?" Stiles asks, and Isaac almost chokes on a sip of coffee, while Scott just nods.

"I guess?" he says, and then looks at Isaac, only then realizing what he just admitted to.

His eyes widen, and Stiles throws a piece of leftover pancake at him.

"You could have told me, you jerk!"

"I'm sorry?"

Stiles just shakes his head, and soon after Scott and Isaac go away too.

It's just him, Jackson and Danny now.

"Do you guys have to go home?" he asks, and Jackson looks at him, surprised, "I mean, it's not exactly the cheeriest moment of all times, but we could stay home today? Hang out a bit?"

Which translates to 'I don't want Jackson alone, because maybe the alphas are going to kill him anyway', but only Danny seems to get that.

"I can stay" Danny says, shrugging, "I just have to call home to let them know, but I can stay."

Jackson is looking at him now, and Stiles rolls his eyes.

"I gather you're staying too, because you won't leave me here alone with Danny, right?" it sounds teasing, and Jackson just raises an eyebrow.

"As if I have to worry about that" he mumbles, and Stiles throws a piece of pancake at him too.

"Jerk."

"Bitch" Jackson answers, and Stiles's eyes go wide.

"No way" he whispers, and Jackson is smirking at him, while Danny looks on as if they're crazy, "No way that was a reference."

"I don't know what you're talking about" Jackson says, still smirking, and Stiles laughs at that, feeling just the tiniest bit lighter.

Maybe there's hope for them yet.

**X**

Peter is an awesome planner.

He knows his flaws, underestimating his enemy's intelligence is one of them, because he's met very few people who are as smart as he is, but even then, he's an awesome planner.

And therefore, of course _he_ has a plan for this Alpha mess.

His nephew would disagree with it, of course, saying it's too risky, too dangerous, and too much of a burden to a single person to do it, but if Peter is an awesome planner, he's also cruel enough to hold grudges.

His world may be a whole lot of grey, and no black and white, but even he has standards.

He gets that Derek only killed him because he killed Laura. That, for him, evens out the odds: they are back to square one, no grudges, no problems between them. He also gets that Stiles and Jackson helped torch him because of what he'd done to Lydia on the field, and he even considers it a good enough payback for him using her to come back to life.

They are also even.

He fucked up Scott's life, so he understands why the kid tried to kill him – but, in all of this math there's someone whom he can't just _even_ things with, because he's never done anything directly to her.

He didn't touch her. He didn't kill her. And the only person he killed that she cared about deserved so much more than what he did to her.

So Allison _owes_ him. Allison Argent _owes_ the Hale Pack. She owes them like there's no tomorrow.

And she is going to pay.

Because then Peter can finally let go of his grudges and maybe try to put his shell of a life back together.

But first, evening the odds.

It's the least he can do for his pack, after all.

* * *

**REVIEW!**


	16. because sometimes you have to take a

**Keep Walking**

**because sometimes you have to take a different path**

It isn't even morning proper yet, but Allison is wide awake. She has been awake for a while, to be honest, because the last time she had a full night's sleep was probably before she found out her boyfriend, the boy she is still in love with, is a werewolf.

It's just… hard. So very, very hard, to keep on living, when all she wants to do is put her whole life on pause so that she can breathe and think, just for a little while.

She's lost… not everything, but as close as she can get without actually losing herself. She lost her aunt. Her mother. Her grandfather. Her boyfriend.

Her mind.

Looking back she sees all the ways Gerard had manipulated her, got the better of her, how he had been cruel and mean, just so he'd get a rise out of her. And it's not that she didn't _see_, but she had seen Kate back then, how ruthless she was, and when Gerard started manipulating her, she never thought it was so he could use her as a bargaining chip in his crusade to become an Alpha – she had thought he was trying to turn her _into Kate_.

Because she was family, because he loved his daughter and had lost her. Because he cared about Allison's pain more than anyone seemed to.

Lies, lies, lies.

Her dad had managed to get his own reason back way before she did, but still, she went too far. She knows that now, she has no delusion that Lydia or Stiles will ever forgive her. The news that Boyd had been found dead in the woods the day before sent her in a definitely bad turn, because in a way, it was still her fault. She had caught them for Gerard, and now he's dead.

Erica is probably dead too. And she doesn't even know who's killing them, or how Scott is dealing with it.

She knows Lydia has left town, and her best friend didn't even try and contact her before leaving. Through her classmate's Facebook pages she knows she's fine, in Portland, but she doesn't know why.

She doesn't know how Scott is.

She hasn't seen him ever since the day he came to talk to her, and she said she needed time – and she _does_ need time, it's just so damn _hard_.

In one hand all she wants to do is get back together with him, be a part of his life again, even help him through whatever is happening right now. In the other, how can she?

How can she just waltz back into his life, when she did what she did? Going in a killing spree, shooting arrows at her classmates, helping a _hunter_ catch them all, stabbing Isaac?

Knowing Stiles was in her basement, and leaving him there?

And that one Scott doesn't even _know_ yet. When he finds out, she honestly doesn't think he'll forgive her.

She's done too much, and she doesn't know how to redeem herself – she doesn't know if she can.

She doesn't know if she wants to.

Gerard managed to warp her in ways she didn't even know it was possible.

In what _universe_ is it okay to go in a killing spree because your mother _chose to die_? In what world is it alright to _shoot your classmates_ because you feel justified in using them as baits? What the hell had she been thinking?

She's still so _angry_ with it all – she's angry at Gerard for using and manipulating her, and she's angry at her father for letting Gerard do what he did, for not stopping her, she's angry at her mother for choosing to leave them the way she did – she's angry at herself for thinking that by hurting everyone around her she'd be stronger.

Her dad thinks she should see a therapist, but who could she see? Who could she go to and say _My problem is that my family hunts werewolves and things got messed up_? She'd be in a straight jacket before she could even get all the words out.

It's been almost a month since the whole thing, and she doesn't think it's getting any better, or that things are any easier. The hunters are staying away, because her dad sent the message that Beacon Hills was their territory, so there's at least that: the knowledge that Scott was safe from hunters, at least.

But what else is there? How many more problems is he going to get into? Is there ever going to be any kind of peace in his life?

In hers?

It's all such a mess and she doesn't know how to get out of it.

She's trying very hard not to have a breakdown – again – when she listens to the sound of someone's footsteps on the roof by her window. She hasn't heard anything there ever since Scott last visited her, one day after she almost got everyone she cares about killed. A part of her is glad he's coming. She misses him. Another part of her is afraid, because she's not ready to face him yet.

She doesn't know if she'll ever be.

That's why she isn't as scared as she should be when the face by her window isn't Scott but Peter Hale.

Peter crosses the windowsill with ease, and seems confident that she won't yell for her dad at any second. He's smirking at her as if holding back a joke she'll love, and Allison doesn't really have the motivation to grab the crossbow by her bed.

If he wanted to kill her, he wouldn't have waited for the morning light, would he?

She hopes not.

"Hello, Allison" he says pleasantly, and then he sits on the foot of her bed, smiling away, "I think we need to have a talk."

**X**

Stiles's dad gets home just as the boy is putting some sandwiches together for lunch. Danny has gone home for the time being, and Jackson is sitting in the living room, watching some bad tv while Stiles makes them something to eat, because it's his house, and his mother did give him some education.

The man looks tired and worn out, but he tries to smile at Stiles.

"Hey, son. How are things?"

Stiles shrugs, putting another sandwich together for his dad.

"It's fine. We heard about Erica already, this morning. Derek stopped by to tell us."

The Sheriff sighs deeply, and rubs his eyes for a bit, tired and sleepy.

"I don't even know how to present the case. I can't say I know what killed them, I also can't say we can find them or anything, because it's just ridiculous. Did Derek say anything else?"

As the man finishes speaking, Jackson gets up and comes into the kitchen too, nodding respectfully at Stiles's dad. Stiles sighs and shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Not really. He says they might lay low for a few days before they act again, and we should, you know, take it easy until then. Stay together. Not wander around. Basic stuff" he says, lying through his teeth, but the Sheriff doesn't seem to notice, grabbing his sandwich and taking a huge bite out of it.

"It's a good idea. Maybe we can catch them somehow, and make them stay away from the town" the man says, looking as if he's trying to come up with a plan to achieve that, and Stiles shrugs again.

"Yeah" he agrees, and he looks like he can feel Jackson staring at him.

They stay in silence for a while, eating quietly.

"I have to head back, I'll be home tonight, okay?" the Sheriff says, running a hand over Stiles's short hair, "Take care, son. You too Jackson" he adds, looking at him with a threatening stare, which makes Jackson nod vigorously and Stiles snickers a bit.

When the Sheriff's car is gone, Jackson turns to look at him.

"You lied to him" he points out unnecessarily.

"What else would I do, Jackson? Tell him the truth? Hey, dad, we're all going to battle in twenty-four hours, and we have a snow ball's chance in hell of winning, but hey, at least we're together, right? Seriously? I make my dad eat healthy so he _won't_ have a heart attack."

Jackson is quiet for a while, and they wander back into the living room, sitting on the couch, Stiles's leg bouncing the whole time.

"You think they'd realty leave you all alone if you killed me?" he asks, and Stiles startles so badly he almost falls out of the couch.

"It doesn't really matter, because it's not happening, okay? You're not dying. Not like this. Plus, it's not only you, it's Lydia too. Do you _want_ us to kill Lydia?" he lets the idea sink in before continuing, "Stop this train of thought, Jackson, I mean it. We're not going there. You turning yourself over would accomplish _nothing_, because there's still Lydia to kill, and no one is doing that."

"It's not like we're going to live all that long anyway" he says, and Stiles turns to stare at him in annoyance, "It's the truth. They'll come and kill us all tomorrow. Peter was right, we're not really pack in the way we'd have to be to win this."

Stiles is quiet for a bit, staring at Jackson as if he said something important.

"Peter _was_ awfully depressing this morning, wasn't he? All for killing you guys, or admitting defeat" Stiles starts, looking distracted, and Jackson frowns.

"Do you think he'll do something?"

"Like skipping town and leaving us all to die? Hell, yeah. That or he has a plan. Knowing that guy, it's pretty much fifty-fifty."

"We did kill him" Jackson points out in a dry voice, and he can see Stiles smirking by his side.

"We didn't, didn't we? Good times, when we could just Molotov the bad guy. Now we don't even know where the bad guy _is_, and everyone is going to the fight already assuming we'll lose. Way to dampen the mood."

Jackson snorts at that, and they're quiet again.

Being quiet doesn't mean Stiles is still, though. He keeps moving from time to time, and looking around him every few seconds, as if he's thinking things that keep moving around him. It's a bit… fascinating, because this is Stiles when he isn't angry or annoyed or fearful, which is basically all Jackson knows of him. It's new to him, have his mate behave almost normally around him.

"You think…" he starts and then pauses, because he doesn't want to go there, and at the same time, he feels as if he _has_ to. Stiles looks at him, waiting for him to continue, and he swallows hard before going on, "You think they'll hunt Lydia down if we lose?"

He can't help the worry that it's visible in his voice, and Stiles sighs, biting his lips.

"God, I hope not" the other boy ends up saying, looking worried again, "It's not fair to her. Everything she went through last year, all the shit we pulled, and all she had to see and do, and then… _us_ happening, and then it'll end with an Alpha Pack going after her for something she has no control over? It's not fair."

Jackson is quiet again, and Stiles is looking down, worry written all over his face.

"You two would have been good together" he says, his voice almost a whisper, and Stiles turns to look at him, incredulous.

"What?"

Jackson exhales loudly, a bit irritated, because he swears he can detect some hope in Stiles's voice, but he isn't going to back down now.

"It's true. Danny said some things last night… Some things about me and Lydia and our relationship, and that wasn't healthy, for me _or_ her. He said we were poison together. You guys wouldn't have been poison, you'd have worked, I think. She needs someone patient enough with her. Maybe she could have been more open about what she is really like. I'm bad at all this shit, you know?" Jackson's voice goes very quiet, and he looks at the floor, almost as if he's talking to himself and not to his mate, "She thought she had to pretend to be a frivolous bitch to be with me, and I dumped her when I thought I'd be _better_" He laughs bitterly, "All this obsession with being the best got me was months as a serial killer and pain to the few people I care about. I ruined Lydia's life, yours. Danny's, because something tells me he'll be there with us tomorrow, and if we die, he goes too" he finally looks up, smile strained, "You would have put her first. She needed that, and I didn't know how to do it."

"And yet she loves you" Stiles points out quietly, "It's… it's what actually makes me think that at some point we'll make this whole mate thing work. The fact that she found something in you she could love, and if Lydia Martin can find it in her to love you, then so can anyone else in the world, because she wouldn't feel that deeply for someone this shallow" Stiles turns on the couch, sitting so he's facing Jackson's profile, and Jackson turns a bit, facing him, "I don't know you, Jackson. You don't know me. We got off on the wrong foot, and we haven't had the time to try and make this work, not _really_. To take the other into consideration, and not just pretend we can make this work just because we have to. We can't actually think we'll be good together if we take this as normal dating, because we've never thought about the other that way. But Lydia loves you, she sees something in you that maybe not even you can see yet, and when this is all over, if we're alive, I'm going to find whatever that is, and I'm going to show it to you, so you can stop pretending to be a jerk and be whoever the hell you are, even if we have to start from scratch."

He looks so determined, so completely _certain_ that _he is worth something_ that Jackson actually goes with whatever the hell his instinct is telling him and gets closer slowly, putting a hand on Stiles's cheek, placing a chaste, soft kiss on his lips.

It's not that he doesn't want to go faster, not that he thinks Stiles is fragile or breakable – he's probably stronger than a hundred Jacksons put together – but he doesn't want to taint this moment with simple lust.

It's more than that.

Whatever it is that they'll build their relationship on, it _has_ to be more than that.

"Okay" he says when he sits back.

Stiles then takes a deep breath and smiles just the tiniest bit.

"Okay" his mate answers, and Jackson feels a little less miserable.

It's enough for now.

**X**

Thing is that time really flies when you are about to get killed by an Alpha Pack.

Stiles and Jackson stay at Stiles's place, and at some point or another, the whole pack goes there – and stay the night. They don't talk about what they are going to do the next day, but Stiles suddenly finds himself with a whole lot of wolfsbane powder in his pockets, and bags and more bags of mountain ash in a backpack. The werewolves are tense and snappish, but they make it through the night. The Sheriff comes home to see all of them in the living room and stares inquisitively at Stiles, who shrugs and says they are trying to be all in one place, for safety.

No one questions him on his half lie to his dad.

The next morning, when Stiles actually manages to wake up, the sun not even all out yet, he sees that Danny, Scott and Isaac are still sleeping, but Jackson, Peter and Derek are wide awake, sitting or reclining on some couch. He gets up and sees his dad has left a note in the kitchen, telling him he'll be home at night.

Stiles prays he'll be home by nightfall too. In a single piece, if at all possible.

He goes upstairs to take a shower and change, and while he is there, he turns on the stereo, putting on _Heat of the moment_, by Asia.

"I can't believe you!" Jackson yells at him, and Stiles laughs out loud at that.

Jackson truly is a Supernatural fanboy.

Way too soon, Derek is staring at all of them seriously, as if it is already their funeral, telling them to take care, and fight only when they think they can win. He reminds his Betas of never engaging an Alpha alone, to attack only as a group. He tells Danny and Stiles to stay out of the fight, and only use the supplies they have when they know it won't harm their own pack.

And then they are off to the Hale house.

* * *

**Three chapters in a single day. Can you guys forgive me now for the delay? Pretty please, with Stackson on top? *-***

**REVIEW!**


	17. to war or something like that

**Just one small thing: do not go into this expecting a great, awesome action scene – I can't write good action to save my life**

* * *

**. **

**Keep Walking**

**to war... or something like that**

"You're nervous."

Peter's voice is casual, and he says that as if Derek has no reason to be nervous at all. As if nothing out of the ordinary is going to happen today.

Derek looks at him with what Stiles would call a bitch face, and doesn't even deign his uncle with an answer.

Yeah, he's nervous. Of course he is: this is not how he thought his pack would end – in death, again. Once more decimated by something he can't fight. It's ridiculous, and he's kind of numb enough that he can't even be angry about it. He just wants to… get it over with. Maybe make some sort of deal with the Alphas so they'll let some of his pack live. Isaac, at least. The humans, who have nothing to be blamed for. He owes Stiles his life a few times, actually, it wouldn't hurt to save the kid this once.

"You should really, really trust me more" Peter continues, and Derek takes his eyes off the road for a few seconds to stare at him.

They are driving to the old house – Peter and him together in his car, the rest of the pack in Stiles's Jeep.

"I will, as soon as you prove you're trustworthy" he answers, almost growling.

"So… by tonight I'll have your respect, and a decent position in this pack, then?" Peter says with a smirk, and Derek frowns.

"What?"

"Honestly, Derek, you are a bunch of children, I wasn't going to let any of you die. No one is dying tonight. No one of this pack, at least."

Derek is a bit stunned into silence, and doesn't even know how to answer to that. What if he's lying? He can't dare hope – even if giving him hope to something like this, and then just taking it away is too low, even for Peter.

Or not.

Peter did kill his sister, after all.

"What are you talking about, Peter?"

His uncle stares at him for a few seconds before continuing, as if weighting how much he should tell Derek. When he starts talking, his voice is calm and reassuring – not the sass and sarcasm Derek has been listening to ever since he set his foot back in Beacon Hills.

Almost like Peter used to be.

"There's a reason why a pack of werewolves would never win against a pack of Alphas. They hit us, we take hours, sometimes days, before being able to heal ourselves. We hit them, they'll be good as new almost instantaneously. What we _do_ to win this fight, is fight with weapons that'd be just as bad for us as they'll be for them. We fight them with poison, wolfsbane, silver, mountain ash. We can't handle that – but neither can they. And that's why we need humans in packs. _They_ can handle this part, while we can't."

"We are _not_ risking Stiles's and Danny's life on defending _us_" Derek starts, but Peter is already shaking his head.

"No, we're not. I couldn't care less about this Danny, but when I say Stiles is my favorite out of all of you, I'm not joking. He is. If Jackson doesn't get his act together, I'll eliminate him myself, but this is not the point" he pauses and sighs, "We have a human who _owes_ us. A human so full of guilt she'll _die_ for us, at least this once, if there's even a sliver of chance she could be forgiven by Scott."

The Alpha is quiet for a long moment before saying anything.

"You're thinking of using _an Argent_ to save us? To fight _for_ us? The same Argent whose aunt you killed _in front of her_? The one who wants to kill _me_?"

"Want_ed_, Derek. Past tense. She's… feeling guilty. I talked to her. She'll do as she's told, because if she doesn't, she'll have the death of all her friends in her conscience."

"You just went and talked her into it?" Derek's voice is incredulous, and he can see Peter smiling a bit.

"No, I guilt-tripped her into it."

"To fight the Alpha Pack for us."

"Yes."

"With poison."

"A special brand Allan was kind enough to give me the recipe, yes. It's not fatal immediately, but two or three shots of it is enough that they'll die, and we won't have to actively kill anyone. Which is a bonus for you, seeing as if even _one_ of your Betas kills an Alpha, they'll become Alphas, and that's _creating_ a problem, not _solving_ it. I bet you didn't even consider that when you formulated this we fight to the death plan."

"You gave Argent the recipe for a poison that can kill us all. And you think this is a good plan?" Derek is not sure if he wants to cry or laugh right now.

Insanity is a sad thing.

"It's an amazing plan!" Peter's voice is bright and cheerful, and now Derek knows he actually feels like crying, "You need to trust people, dear nephew. This brooding distrust is no way to spend your life" he finishes with a smirk, and getting out of the car, because they have just arrived at their old house.

Derek stays in the car for a moment, trying to regain his composure.

They are all dead now.

He can feel it.

**X**

Stiles is never one to trust easily, but when he sees how pale Derek is when he finally gets out of his car, he actually decides to trust his gut that Peter knows what he's doing when he tells Stiles to make a circle of mountain ash around the front yard of the house.

He leaves the front of it wide open, so the Alphas can get in. He's supposed to close it, as soon as they step in.

So they will, you know, be _locked in a magic circle_ with the five Alphas who want to kill them.

Great idea.

He trusts Peter at this moment, though, because he has nothing else to do. He can't afford not to trust anything right now, he can't let himself get lost in fear or he'll die a few minutes before he's supposed to.

This is bad.

This is so bad he can't even.

He goes wait in the forest, so he can actually close the circle when the Alphas get there. Of course they'll know he's in the forest, and of course they'll probably know there's a reason he's there, but he also knows they won't bother.

They are five Alphas, powerful, trained, used to fighting together Alphas against three barely turned Betas, a crazy ex-Alpha, an Alpha who has no _idea_ what he's doing, and two humans.

Dead. That's what they are. Dead meat.

He finishes putting the ash around the house, the gap in it right in the front, and looks at Jackson, whose eyes are bright and electric already. He smiles a bit at his mate, nervous and uncertain.

"See you in a bit" he says, and Jackson looks as if he's considering taking Stiles and running out of here, but then Derek puts his hand on Jackson's arm, and Stiles turns his back on them.

Dead, dead, dead. It's like a chant in his head, the whole time.

Dead.

He takes in a deep, deep breath, and tries to focus on the task at hand: waiting. He doesn't let himself wonder what's going to happen in the next few minutes, or hours. He doesn't allow his thoughts to go to the rational part of his brain that tells him that doing what he's doing is pointless and idiotic.

The only ones who could get out of the circle when he closes it are him and Danny.

Maybe that's Peter's plan. They kill themselves killing the Alpha Pack, and Stiles and Danny are the only survivors.

Not good. Not good at all.

He can hear them approaching now. Heavy footsteps, hushed voices, a laugh. A normal one, even – he had been expecting the cruel, Disney-witch kind, but no. It's just a laugh. From someone who's going to kill them all in a few minutes.

He considers not closing the circle. Try to hit one of them with mountain ash now, give the werewolves in _his_ pack a chance to live, but can't quite bring himself to do it, because that's not the plan.

What if he does it, and the plan could have actually worked, and then he ruined it because he didn't trust Peter?

He has to trust _someone_. Maybe the ex-corpse isn't his best bet, but he's taking what he can get right now.

They pass him by, a smirky smile thrown his way as they go, letting him know that, yes, they know he's there. No, they don't think of him as threat enough even to drag him to the house with them.

He swallows hard, looks at the four pouches full of mountain ash he still has after circling the rest of the front yard with it, and takes a deep breath, focusing, just like he did that night at the rave.

When he's done, the whole thing flashes fast, and then he knows he's done.

He circles back, staying beside Danny, behind everyone else.

Derek is facing the she-wolf in the upfront of the group of Alphas. She's smiling at them all. A pair of twins are flanking her, and behind them, two more, fanned out, not yet ready for battle, but waiting.

Isaac, Scott and Jackson are just a step behind Derek, and Peter is…

Well, Peter is _leaning against the house_. Careless and with no worries, as if he's just waiting for the alphas to say they are leaving.

"Finally, the last human. Now we can begin" the leader of the Alphas says, smiling at him, and Stiles takes a deep breath.

It's going to be downhill from here, he knows it.

"You are still missing a future corpse here" one of the twins says, looking at their pack coldly, "You know, the one who knows way too much."

"There's no one missing" Derek growls back, and the Alpha leader actually laughs this time.

"You plan on fighting us? Really fight us? With what? This little trick with the mountain ash around us? Seriously? That's just cute" she finishes, and Stiles is sickly reminded of Kate Argent.

A _werewolf_ Kate Argent.

This is just wrong.

"You are not taking any more of our pack" Derek says, his voice cold and low, and she smiles at him sweetly.

"Is that your last word on this?" Derek doesn't bother answering to that, and she shakes her head sadly, "Well, then it's just polite to offer this: any of you kill your Alpha, you are allowed to live. Even the humans. We won't even change you if you don't want to. This is the end of this pack, but you have a chance – be the one to kill him, and you'll be spared."

There's no answer to that either, and she nods at them.

"Very well."

The leader's eyes flash red, and Stiles can see her claws and teeth coming out. The Betas start to shift too, but Derek and Peter are standing still. As soon as she takes one step forward, Stiles listens to a hissing sound, and not a second later the leader has an arrow at the back of her neck.

Two second after that, each one of the Alphas has an equal arrow in them, and they start to move after the Hale pack, but they aren't fast enough.

Jackson, as soon as the first arrow flies, comes to Stiles side, and is crouching in front of him and Danny, teeth bared. Stiles looks around, trying to find where the hell the arrows are coming from, but he can't see a thing. The Alphas start to try and evade the arrows, but the circle of mountain ash keeps them inside. They start attacking Derek, Scott and Isaac, and seem to realize they can be used as shields, but that doesn't last as long as one would think, because the Betas realize whoever is shooting isn't aiming at them – throw an Alpha far enough, and another arrow gets them. In no more than a minute four of the Alphas are down, and one of the twins is the only one standing.

They aren't dead – not yet, Stiles can hear them moaning and growling and hissing in pain, but not dead yet. Jackson is looking pale, though, and so are Peter and the other betas.

Whatever it is in the arrows, it's so strong it's starting to affect the werewolves around it, even without the wounds. The arrows stop coming suddenly, more likely because there are no more left, and Stiles can't quite believe what's happening.

The Alpha left – one of the twins – is faster than the others, and has been hiding behind Scott most of the time. He finally manages to get a good hit in, sending Scott flying against the barrier of mountain ash, and moves towards the house – towards where Stiles, Danny and Jackson are.

He barrels into Danny, and they end up flying to the barrier, Danny's body hitting the floor where the mountain ash is, breaking the circle.

The Alpha doesn't stop, trying to escape, and Jackson runs after him, not a single thought in mind. Derek looks alarmed and pale, just like all the others – Jackson wasn't as affected, for being further away from where all the arrows had been shot at.

"Everyone okay?" he asks, going to Danny, and pulling him up. Looking around, he sees Derek is having difficulty changing to go after Jackson. They look at each other for a second, and Stiles can swear Derek looks fearful.

Jackson would end the last Alpha, right? He wouldn't let a sick, dying Alpha escape.

And if Jackson kills him, then he… He becomes an Alpha himself.

Holy shit.

**X**

It freaking _hurts_. Whatever it is that is in those arrows, it hurts like hell, and Jackson is kind of glad he chose to come to the back, and protect the humans, instead of trying to stay in the middle of it. Derek is pale, Scott is barely breathing right, and Isaac looks as if he'll pass out any second.

And yet, all Jackson can think about is defending Stiles, his mate, and Danny, his best friend, because none of the others, not even his Alpha, means to him as much as these two do.

And then one of the Alphas makes a run to where they are, and Jackson has less than a second to make a decision, and when push comes to shove, he moves just the tiniest bit towards Stiles.

That's why the Alpha takes Danny with him, using his best friend's body to break the barrier his mate put up.

Jackson doesn't really analyze what he's doing, he's just going after the threat to make sure there'll be _no more_ threat. It's not until he's finally over the Alpha, an oozy feeling taking over him just from _smelling_ the wound the werewolf has at the back of his neck and the top of his thigh, that he realizes _this is an Alpha._

An Alpha, dying, almost dead, but not quite there yet.

He could kill him.

Kill him and become an Alpha.

Kill him, be an Alpha and _bite his mate_.

No more denying, no more tension, no more risk of being cast away or killed. No more having to listen to Derek, having to make sense of whatever McCall thinks he's doing, no more _obeying_.

He could be just as powerful as Derek – probably _more_.

He could be an Alpha.

He stares at the man under him, almost dead, and yet smirking.

"Do it" the man whispers, Jackson's claws digging into his throat, fangs out and ready to bite.

Jackson stares into the red eyes in front of him and snarls.

He knows what to do.

**X**

They have to get away from the house, Stiles knows that, but he can't quite focus on helping the werewolves as much as he'd like.

At some point, seconds, really, Chris Argent and Allison come out of the woods. He registers the man looks as if he'd rather be dead than here, and Allison looks timid and broken, but they, along with Danny, help Scott and Isaac away from the four bodies in front of the Hale house. Derek and Peter manage on their own – Derek probably for being the strongest, Peter for being just as far from the showdown as Jackson was.

He _sees_ all of this happening, and yet he can't help but worry about what the _hell_ Jackson is doing right now.

Finally, the boy comes out of the woods towards them, avoiding the front of the house, and away from the broken circle of mountain ash. As soon as he sees Danny is standing up, Stiles can see him visibly relax, and then he's making a beeline towards Stiles.

He stops when Stiles takes a step back as soon as Jackson is close enough, and they stare at each other for a few seconds.

"He's dead" Jackson says, his voice exhausted.

"Is he?" Stiles says, just to have something to say.

"Yeah" Jackson says, reaching out with a hand, and pulling Stiles towards him, "Yeah, he is" he confirms and then his eyes flash for just a seconds.

Electric, bright, clear blue.

* * *

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	18. until it gets easy

**Keep Walking**

**until it gets easy**

"You didn't—" Stiles begins, and Jackson shakes his head a bit, tightening his hold on Stiles, and hiding his face on the curve of his neck.

"I held him down until he died" he whispers against Stiles's skin, "I could have… But… I would have bitten you. I would have. And you don't want it."

Stiles doesn't really know what to do with his feelings right now. It's… he can't stop to analyze it. He can't really look at Jackson and say 'I'm proud of you' or some such crap, because _hell_, they've just outlived an Alpha Pack because of a plan _Peter Hale_ concocted and made the _Argents_ help. And Jackson didn't do something because of _Stiles_.

He… he can't help it. Stiles starts laughing, loud and bright. Jackson steps away from him a bit, eyeing him strangely – not quite hurt, but uncertain – and Stiles stares at him, looks around for a bit – Peter staring at him amusedly, Derek glaring at the Argents, Allison staring longingly and brokenly at Scott, Isaac checking Scott for injuries, Scott looking down, Danny sitting on the ground with his head between his knees, Chris looking sour as a lemon – and taking all of that in, Stiles laughs.

There are four bodies in front of the Hale house. One more in the woods.

And they – are – all – alive.

"Fucking hell, we're alive" he says, still laughing, and Jackson shakes his head before saying anything.

"Yeah, we kind of are."

Maybe it's the heat of the moment. Maybe it's the surviving thing. Maybe it's because for once Stiles actually gets what Lydia sees in Jackson, him not doing something that could get him _exactly_ what he wanted just so _Stiles_ would get what _he _wants, maybe it's everything tied into a single, huge knot of happiness, but he closes the small space between them, and kisses Jackson.

He _really_ kisses him. Clumsy at first, because Jackson is taken by surprise, and lets out a small _oof_ when Stiles presses into him, and then they are holding each other tightly, Jackson's mouth cold against his lips, breathing labored, and Stiles is still chuckling a bit.

They break apart when they hear Allison's exclamation of surprise, and when they look at her, she's wide-eyed and looking confused.

"Lydia knows" Stiles says, "She totally knows."

Allison doesn't look as if she has an answer, and smiles uncertainly at them.

Jackson pulls Stiles to his side again, arm possessively on his waist, and for once, Stiles doesn't care.

They made it.

The elation comes to a small stop when he hears Chris Argent's voice, though.

"We came here because what we did was wrong. What Gerard did was unacceptable, and we had to pay somehow. But this is as far as we'll ever go. We won't come after you if you don't harm any humans. We follow the code, but this is it. We are not allies. We are not friends. And your pack" he stares at Derek angrily, "will stay away from _my family_" he demands, and Derek's eyes flash red briefly, as he takes a step towards Chris, staying precisely between the hunter and his pack.

"Just as long as you stay away from mine" he says angrily.

Argent nods, and turns around to leave. Allison is still staring at Scott, who is looking at her with hurt and uncertainty, but then he looks down and away, and Allison takes a small look at all of them before following her father.

The SUV disappears among the trees, and it's like all of them can breathe again.

"Can someone _please_ tell me WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?" Scott demands suddenly, looking _completely _freaked out, and Stiles can't really blame him.

He actually thinks he's kind of in shock too.

"What happened is that I saved all of you" Peter points out smugly, "Allison wanted to pay her debt to the pack, and she did it. The Alphas are dead, no one will bother us for a long while, so we can actually grow to _be_ a pack at some point. The poison will be found in their bodies, and it'll look like a mass suicide, if we manage to clean the arrows and our presence from here fast enough."

"Poison? That's what was in the arrows?" Stiles asks, and Peter nods at him, "Okay, but that is way potent."

"It is. A special recipe."

"What if the Argents use it against us?" Isaac asks then, looking just as freaked out as Scott.

"They can't. It needs the blood of a werewolf _freely given_ to work like this, to bind the components right."

"That sounds made up. What if they use just blood of a werewolf?"

"It won't work."

"Are you sure?" Stiles persists, and Peter looks at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Sure, you have a _spark_ that _creates_ mountain ash, and yet you now doubt that, for a _magical poison_ to work, the blood needs to be freely given? You are mated to a werewolf, Stiles. Do keep up with the subtlety involved in the supernatural aspects of your life, please."

"Sorry" he answers, looking at Jackson briefly, seeing he's smirking.

Asshole.

"Can we go home now?" comes Danny's voice, small and a bit muffled, from where he's _still_ hiding his head in his arms, crouched down, "I think I need a week of sleep after this. And never, ever again tell me anything that can lead to a sudden death. Or this much killing. Never, ever again."

Stiles can't help but laugh at that, and Danny raises his head just the tiniest bit, glaring at him. He bites his lip to stop from laughing more, and goes over Danny, to offer him a hand up.

"You kids go home. Derek and I will make sure the bodies are found in a proper way" Peter commands, and all of them stare at Derek, only leaving when he nods.

When they are all in Stiles's Jeep – Jackson by his side, Danny, Isaac and Scott in the backseat, Stiles takes a deep breath.

"You know, I really feel like watching Supernatural right now."

"Jesus, Stiles. All I want to do is curl up in bed and watch, I don't know. Something with no monsters. No killing. No violence" Danny comments, and Stiles snorts, looking at him through the rearview mirror.

"Where's the fun in that?" he asks.

"Third season. The best season" Jackson says, and Stiles smirks a bit.

"Second. But the third was close, I mean that episode in the prison? With all the demons and the FBI and stuff? That's _awesome_. It doesn't beat Sam dying, though."

"Too much… angst" Jackson replies.

"Aw, Jackson can't deal with his fanboy feels" he taunts, and Jackson growls at him.

Stiles laughs back and just keeps on driving.

He leaves Danny at his house, and Scott and Isaac at Scott's.

And then he and Jackson go back to his place, make a lot of popcorn, throw themselves on the couch, and watch Supernatural.

Life is good again.

**X**

The bad thing about his dad knowing the whole thing with the werewolves is that Stiles feels obligated to tell him what _exactly_ happened that afternoon.

He is, then, grounded till the end of the summer.

He flails about a bit, exclaims that it's unfair, and how exactly _is he_ going to be grounded, when there's _Jackson_?

The fact that he uses this mate-situation to his advantage like this tells the Sheriff that everything is going to be okay eventually. After that, they negotiate the grounding down to a week.

Stiles can't even seem to respect that, because Scott comes calling the very next day.

Jackson had left his house as soon as the Sheriff came home that night. Stiles sent him away with a small kiss, and a warning to not show up until he called, because he was going to tell his dad about Peter's plan, and things could go _really bad_, _really fast_. Jackson looked worried, but then he left.

They were making progress.

He had dinner with his dad, told him everything, discussed his punishment for, you know, endangering his _life_, and not telling his father about it, and then went to bed, exhausted.

The sun isn't even out yet when Scott comes calling through his window.

"I need your help" the boy says, and Stiles looks at him, unimpressed. Those are never good words coming out of Scott's mouth.

"What did you do now?" Stiles asks, hiding his head under his pillow. He doesn't really want to know.

"I need to… clear things with Allison. Really… clear things with her. And I don't know how to do it, because her dad still wants me dad, and I can't just show up at her house, or call her! I don't know what to do!"

Stiles takes the pillow off his face at that moment, and stares at Scott.

"What do you mean with clear things, Scott? Isaac is your _mate_."

He doesn't really want to think about how that word sounds now – a full explanation, as if it's all that needs to be said at any time to make things make sense between two people.

Mate stopped being something intangible that he couldn't even grasp to something he's using to explain things.

It's all very confusing.

"I know. And that's why I need to do this, Stiles! Last time we talked, I said I'd _wait_ for her! Give her time!"

"But you already knew Isaac was yours by then!" he exclaims, sitting up in bed, and staring at Scott as if he grew fifteen heads, because two just wouldn't be enough.

"I was kinda… ignoring it all until it went away" Scott mumbles, and Stiles stares at him for a full minute, before starting to laugh, almost hysterically, again.

Oh god.

"And now you want to… explain this to her. Dump her, not let her stay hung up on you, because you need to make things work with Isaac."

Scott nods, looking like a lost puppy, and Stiles sighs loudly.

"Okay… how about this. I'll call her later, ask her to meet me, and I tell her about me and Jackson and the whole mate thing, and then… you come and tell her about Isaac. This way she'll know what's going on before you actually break the news to her."

"We can't be seen together."

"I'll call her here, then. Jackson is going to freak _out_" he mumbles as he gets out of bed.

Again, he's ignoring the way he just factors his mate into things now.

Scott hangs around for a few more minutes, and then he leaves, telling Stiles he had to go meet Deaton. Apparently, he's the official go-between with Deaton and Derek.

He makes himself some breakfast, eats it quickly, and then wanders up to his room again, taking out his cellphone.

"Early" it's the answer he gets from Jackson, and Stiles smirks a bit. He's kind of a jerk, after all.

"I know, but I need to talk to you about something. Then you can go back to sleep."

"What is it?"

"Scott needs to talk to Allison about a few things, I told him I would talk to her first. You know, the whole him and Isaac thing. It's going to be complicated for her, so…"

"You and Argent? Alone? No way in hell, Stiles, that girl is _insane_!"

He can hear Jackson moving around, probably getting up, and sighs.

"Look, she had just lost her mom. I'm not saying we invite her to be the godmother of our children, I'm just going to talk to her, and then Scott will explain everything, and we'll never have to talk to her again."

Jackson is awfully quiet on the other side of the call.

"Jackson?" he calls, and hears a strangled noise as answer, "Jackson?"

"Our children?" the other boy says, and then it's Stiles who's quiet.

He didn't see _that_ one coming.

"It's just… It's an expression, Jackson.

"_Our children_. You said our children. Oh, man, you want to have my werewolf babies!"

And now he's laughing. Jerk.

"Shut up!"

"Ha, no! If we get a surrogate, we're using my sperm, I'm so not dealing with your ADHD in a werewolf."

"Jackson, focus on the Allison thing, ok? She's coming over this afternoon. I'll call you after."

"I don't like this" the other boy says, even if Stiles can kind of hear him laughing a bit.

"Just… trust me, okay?"

There are a few seconds of silence.

"Okay."

And in the end, it is as simple as that.

**X**

He's just finished cleaning up the kitchen after a quick lunch when Allison knocks. She looks worn out and sad, depressed in a way he knows way too well, because he's been through that.

Well, not _really_ that, because while his mom didn't kill herself, he didn't try to kill all of his friends either.

She smiles a bit when he invites her in, and she sits on the couch, nervously looking around.

"So… is this a… _pack_ thing? My dad seemed to be under the impression that you'd be the one to talk to me about an alliance or something."

"No, it's not a pack thing. I haven't even talked to Derek since yesterday afternoon" he starts, sitting on an armchair facing her, "It does have to do with werewolves, though."

Allison nods, and looks down. Her nails are all bitten to the point of bleeding, and she looks at once defeated and aggressive.

"Did you talk to Lydia before she left?" he asks, because he has _no idea_ where to start this conversation.

Allison shakes her head no.

"We didn't talk again after…" she trails off, risking a glance at Stiles. He looks down for a bit, nervous.

"Jackson bit me that night" he starts, and Allison starts looking suspicious.

"I know. I was there."

"Well, that was… It was a claiming bite. I'm Jackson's mate" he lets that sink in for a moment before continuing, "It has nothing to do with liking someone. It doesn't have to do with compatibility, as far as we can see, because if he could have chosen _anyone else_ in the _universe_, I think he'd rather be the mate of a Slitheen than mine, and yet, I'm it for him. Lydia was pretty messed up with it. She left because Jackson wouldn't see her the few days after the whole thing. He didn't even say goodbye, and, honestly, if we weren't being threatened by those Alphas until literally yesterday, I think we would have just killed each other. But being near death gives one some perspective, so we're… on our way to being fine now."

Allison keeps quiet, just staring at him, blinking hard, and Stiles has to look away.

This is so bad.

"It's permanent and instinctual. It's not a choice they are given, it just happens. It's… really, no one's fault, and mostly, the werewolf can control it, unless you're as messed up as Jackson is, but eventually, they can't ignore it anymore. It's… the way they are" he explains in quiet voice, and looks at Allison again.

Her eyes are red, and she wipes a tear as soon as it falls, trying to hold all the others in.

"I'm not his mate, am I?" she asks in a broken voice, and Stiles can only shake his head.

"It's… it's Isaac" he says quietly, and she looks down again, twisting her hands nervously for a bit, and taking a few deep breaths, "He wants to talk to you, but your father…"

"I don't want to" she says, with a forced smile, getting up, "I… I honest to God can't deal with this right now. I just can't. Tell him… Tell him I wish he's happy" she ends up saying, already going to the door.

"Allison" Stiles calls, wanting to say something, so something, anything, to make this better, or at the very least, less awful.

"Goodbye, Stiles" she says, already getting out of the door.

He locks it after her, and takes a deep breath. A squeak on the stairs makes him look up, and he sees Jackson coming down – obviously having been hiding in his room while they talked.

The blond doesn't really say anything, he pulls Stiles to an embrace, and he lets it go, holding his mate back.

"I don't want her to suffer like this" Stiles says, and Jackson nods – both of them _know_ they aren't talking about Allison.

They have something very important to fix.

And this time, they'll do it together.

* * *

**All the feels from now on.**

**Hehehehe.**

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	19. because the road is all that matters

**Keep Walking**

**because the road is all that matters**

It's weird how time passes when things are kind of going right.

The rest of the summer isn't as angst ridden as Stiles would have expected it to be just a few weeks ago. He and Jackson are kind of… making progress, even if they haven't yet really, well… mated.

What bothers them the most, actually, is the fact that by being together, they are hurting Lydia. And they love Lydia. It's a fact. Just because they are destined to be together or some such crap it doesn't mean that feeling goes away – it's still there, and it keeps being strange, because it feels weird to be jealous of the feelings they have for someone who they _aren't_ in a relationship with.

They try to reach her, of course. First a few calls, which she doesn't answer. Texts she doesn't reply. E-mails they don't know if she gets or not.

And then Jackson writes her a letter, two weeks before school is supposed to begin again – a long letter, ten pages long, actually – which he offers to show to Stiles before sending, but he says it's not necessary.

They are mates, but they aren't a single person.

She sends Stiles an e-mail after that, telling him he better make Jackson happy, or else. After that, they talk a bit.

To be completely honest, both Stiles _and_ Jackson consider asking Lydia for a relationship with the both of them.

And then they see her – four days before school starts, back in Beacon Hills, hair flipping over her shoulder, and a disdaining look aimed at them, and it becomes clear they just… can't.

Lydia deserves better than to have two people in her life who have the weight of _forever_ on their shoulders, in a way she doesn't.

It's not easy, but they manage. Lydia refuses to be near Peter at first, but she's welcome to pack meetings and training sessions, and she's probably the only person Jackson trusts Stiles with without growling a bit.

School starts, and Allison is not there. They hear, through gossip and random comments, that the Argents have left town, and no one really knows where they went. Scott mopes for about a day, Isaac looks hurt for about a week, and then they seem to make some progress, if the holding hands thing they keep on doing at school is any indicative.

Jackson and Stiles are the talk of the school as soon as they set foot at the premises. The werewolf has some _serious_ possessive issues that won't go away just because they survived some Alphas. While that's what made them realize they couldn't keep denying what they are, it didn't solve all their problems, as it's made clear by Jackson the day Harris mocks Stiles in class, and the boy throws their teacher against the blackboard.

He is suspended for two days after that, the Sheriff has to come and talk to the principal, but an investigation made among the students makes it clear that Harris isn't fit to teach. So, even if Jackson is pissed off, and Stiles's dad keeps dropping hints about abusive relationships, there's a bonus at the end of it all.

They make progress in heaps and bounds some days, and in others it's like they are back at the beginning, barely containing the urge to kill and maim the other. The day Jackson keeps interrupting Lacrosse training every time someone tries to check Stiles, or when Stiles keeps provoking Jackson on the day of the full moon just to irritate him: they are far, far from perfect. But they are making some progress.

Slowly but surely.

Lydia is always a concern for the both of them, and the day she starts dating some Senior – the president of the Senior Class, actually – it's like they are both being dumped and released somehow.

Jackson stops being so _possessive_ to start being attentive, and there's a huge difference there. Stiles stops shoving Jackson away every time Lydia shows up in a room, and relaxes instead.

They are… fine.

Sex is an issue that comes up as soon as they start being comfortable enough around the other that make out sessions aren't a thing they only do when something stressful happens.

Jackson is all for doing it, and Stiles isn't really sure – not because he doesn't _want it,_ because _come on_, have you people _seen_ Jackson?! – but because he's a bit afraid of what it will mean.

It's… definitive. It's the seal of forever on them being… _them_ for the rest of their lives, so, yes, he is truly and completely afraid of that.

And then a rogue hunter happens three days before Christmas, and he takes Isaac away.

And because they are mated, because Scott has overcome his issues with Allison far faster than Stiles can do with Jackson being a jerk, he can locate Isaac fast enough that he isn't hurt, has not a scratch on him.

The hunter is dealt with by the Sheriff, who ends up arresting the man for kidnapping, and everyone goes home safe.

That night, when the Sheriff is still out working, where he'll be till sunrise, Jackson comes through his window, and Stiles doesn't even let him all the way in before he's kissing the living daylights out of him.

His mate is taken by surprise, and when he notices Stiles's hands are shaking he has to take a step back, and try to understand what's going on.

It becomes clear what's happening when he hears Stiles mumbling "It could have been you."

He hugs Stiles to him for a moment, taking in his scent, his trembling body, the thick smell of fear permeating the air, and shakes his head.

"It wasn't" he answers, but Stiles is already shaking his head.

"It could have been! And we wouldn't have found you that fast, because I'm a jerk!" Jackson doesn't say anything, just stares, because he feels as if the smallest word out of him will make Stiles fall apart, "I'm in this, Jackson. I'm not afraid of this anymore, and we haven't… done it yet because I'm being a jerk!"

"Stiles, if you want to wait…" he starts, because they've had this conversation a hundred times before – for Jackson sex is sex. He's done it for the first time when he was fifteen, and it never occurred to him that it should be special, or different or magical or anything. It was good – hell, sex with Lydia was _amazing_ – but it wasn't a life changing decision.

With them, though, with them it is. And if that scares Stiles, he's ready to understand, because Stiles puts up with _a lot_ of crap from him.

"I don't!" Stiles says, staring at him as if he's only then realizing this, "I don't want to wait. I'm…" he takes a deep breath and stares directly into Jackson's eyes, "I'm yours."

And his voice, his heartbeat, it never wavers, it doesn't shake, it doesn't even blip.

As far as first times go, it's not perfect. Jackson pulls him hard enough that he stumbles, and then they laugh instead of kiss. Even when their clothes are being taken off, a giggle or a chuckle is heard, and Stiles stumbles out of his pants with not a single trace of grace in the whole movement.

Jackson is way too excited, and can't quite control his claws, so Stiles has to help him with his pants and boxers, and his hands are shaking the whole time. Their eyes keep meeting, and every time it happens, Jackson's eyes flash blue, and Stiles shivers just a bit, because Jackson being a werewolf is kind of a turn on he didn't expect to have. They get naked, and half their clothes won't be wearable anymore, because of the claws involved in the whole getting naked process, and Stiles is trying to remember all that he has ever read about sex between man, and Jackson keeps pushing him towards the bed and nipping at his neck, right over he first bit Stiles, months ago.

There is a whole lot of moaning and groaning and begging involved, but neither of them would ever admit to it. Stiles has lube in a drawer, and Jackson has a condom in his backpack. Jackson wants to prepare Stiles, but he wants this _too much_, his eyes keep changing, and he can control his fangs, and the whole face changing thing, but his claws keep coming out, and so he sits back and takes deep, deep breaths as he watches _his mate_ prepare himself to take _him_.

It's intoxicating. The way Stiles bites his lips, groaning with the intrusion of his own fingers, the way he can't stay still even doing _this_. The want in Jackson's eyes, the way he's tearing Stiles's sheets apart with his claws but doesn't try to touch Stiles, knowing he'd hurt him.

The way they just… _trust_ the other not to do something that could get them hurt.

_That_ is what is perfect about this.

Stiles takes Jackson's wrists and pins them over his head as he settles over Jackson's body. He stares into the bright blue eyes of his mate, knowing the pressure he has on his hands are nothing, and yet Jackson doesn't take his hands away. Jackson takes a deep breath, and tries not to move, not to thrust up as Stiles settles over him, _around_ him, groaning quietly, mumbling incoherently a stream of words that go from _Sweet Jesus_ to _topping from the bottom, baby_, that have Jackson laughing breathlessly, because Stiles feels _amazing._

Jackson not so much at first, because Stiles has never done this before, and just because they are mates it doesn't make sex flawless or not messy, or even without pain.

Stiles takes himself in his own fist, biting his lips, and Jackson starts meeting his small thrusts with his own, until he can _finally_ feel Stiles relaxing more, and start enjoying this.

He pulls Stiles to him, adjusting their bodies so they can continuing moving, and kisses him sweetly, almost chastely, in a perfect contrast with what they are doing. And then they break apart, and Jackson's hand is on Stiles neck, the other – clawless, thank God – hand moving with Stiles's one on him, driving him wild for a bit, until he falls forward over Jackson.

He keeps moving, tightening his hold on Stiles, careful not to hurt him, though, until all he can see and smell and taste is his mate.

They are strangely quiet after it. Stiles is always talking and moving, and yet now he's a solid weight on Jackson, moving only enough to breathe for a few minutes.

"We are _so_ doing this again, like, a thousand times" he finally says, and Jackson laughs at him, taking his face on his hands, and kissing his lips again.

"Forever" he whispers, and Stiles smiles at him.

"Okay" he says back at him, and turning them around a bit, so Stiles is safely in his arms.

They fall asleep like that.

The Sheriff finds them like that the next morning, and that's a _whole_ conversation Stiles could have lived without, but it's almost worth it because of how pale Jackson gets when the Sheriff puts his gun on the table.

It's not perfect. It's not without its great problems, but it's their life.

Stiles honestly believes this is as good as it gets.

**X**

After so many years living with the supernatural, Lydia still marvels at the fact that they turned out okay, after all they've been through.

They are alive, which is a surprise, but even more than that, they are _happy_. All of them, all of their pack.

She's not married yet, thirty is, after all, the new twenty, and she has no interest in giving up her career just yet to have a kid, and that's all she can see herself settling down for – someday, in the future, but not now.

Like her, Derek is not married either, will probably never be, and she has a suspicion, because of a conversation she had with Stiles many, many years ago, that Kate Argent's death killed a part of Derek with her.

Peter has girlfriends, but has never settled down. Sometimes he gets too quiet, staring at her with something in his eyes that either makes her want to comfort him or get away from him, and when she finds a picture of his old mate she has to admit she looks like her a bit now that she's older.

She doesn't comment on it, and neither does he, and they ignore this one more connection they have.

The pack hasn't grown all that much, truly. Isaac is not ready to be a father, he doesn't know if he ever will – maybe when he finally accepts he has to go to a therapist to conquer this fear he has that he'll be just like _his_ dad. A fear Scott seems to share, and if they aren't all a study case for bad parenting, Lydia doesn't know who could be.

The only ones with kids are Stiles and Jackson.

It hurt so much, all those years ago, when they first got together, the way she hated them both _so freaking much_. But as time went by, she could see the way they simply… worked.

The way Jackson would protect and defend Stiles in a way she would have never allowed and that Jackson _needed_ to do. The way Stiles would complain about it, but be pleased with it all the same, because he had always been afraid no one would ever want him enough to fight for him. It was in in the way Stiles pushed Jackson to be better, to do better, not as something to see, but as a _person_. How Stiles got Jackson to _laugh_, carelessly, as she had never seen him do before. How Jackson would make Stiles _melt_ in an embrace, as if he was finally _home_.

The way they fight _all the freaking time_, and it never ends badly.

"It's called _teething_, Jackson. You should recognize it, seeing as you grow _fangs_ at least once a month!" Stiles gripes, irritated to the point of boiling, "It happens to every baby, _even_ your son, ok?" he completes, bouncing their baby boy in his arms, and the child squirms and cries pitifully, a chew toy in his mouth the whole time.

"I know _what_ it is, Stiles, I'm just asking if there's anything I can _do_ to stop the crying! He's in _pain_, it's not fair!" Jackson answers, and just like that Stiles's irritation melts away in a smile, and he takes a step closer to his husband, rubbing a hand on his arm, using the hand not holding the six-month old baby.

"It'll pass, okay? It's a phase."

Jackson nods, still looking indignant with his son's pain, and takes Stiles and the baby in his arms, holding his family close.

Jackson is a Lawyer, like his dad. They have a firm together, and he's awfully good at it. Stiles is a writer, and, as Lydia likes to tease him, a stay at home mother, because he can't bear the thought of leaving their baby with a nanny yet.

The garden at the back of the Whittemore House is full with the sounds of the pack. Danny and his werewolf boyfriend, Nick, the only addition the Hale pack has done in almost fifteen years, cuddling on a bench. Isaac and Scott talking quietly to Melissa and John Stilinski, a couple they should have seen coming, and yet, it was a surprise when it finally happened. Derek engaging Jackson in a conversation just so he would leave Stiles and the baby alone for a moment, a grateful look exchanged between the human and the Alpha. And her. Looking at what is now her family.

They've survived some crazy years of high school, a tough problem regarding colleges, because they couldn't be away from their Alpha or each other, hunters that thought they could make a name for themselves taking out a whole pack. They are alive.

It is, as Stiles said once, still in high school, as good as it gets without being fiction.

And it is enough.

**the end.**

* * *

**Well, this is it! It's done!**

**Thank you so much for your comments, reviews, kudos, favs and general support of this story! Especially for the patience as I went almost two months without updating it.**

**A special thanks to sheewulf, who made some amazing art for this story, dfdw, therandomnerdette, bnkn62, and jessejamesbentley who are amazing people who reblog and like posts about this story on tumblr. Seriously, guys, you are great.**

**Thank you again!**

**REVIEW!**


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